In The Eye of Hell's Hurricane
by Hallucifering
Summary: While there are Alternate Universes, this is what I call a Parallel Universe. It follows the idea of Supernatural but adds its own plot. Cute Destiel for all who dare. Takes place before the apocolypse. Guaranteed it's good even without smut. 2/3 finished.


Not Lost, but Not Found

"Cas!" Dean cried out. He'd never seen this man before and he's already giving him

nicknames. Why was he the one that had to find this mysterious man?

"Castiel!" Sam's voice carried from across the evening woods. How could Sam possibly be friends with a man that is stupid enough to get lost in the woods when he was right there with him? And Castiel? That was such a girly name.

"Sam, I don't think he's here. He probably left." Dean said, his voice tinted with annoyance.

"He has to be. I these are too big of woods to just find your way out on your own without the path." Sam said.

"Well why couldn't you have done this yourself? I don't need to babysit your friends." Dean was ready to leave.

"Don't you think I already tried looking for him myself?" Sam paused for a long moment. "I think…I think I found something."

He leaned over a fallen log to see the lapel of a tan trench coat. He turned to Dean and waved him over. They both walked around the tree of which Sam saw the cloth.

"Castiel-"

"Cas?" They both said.

Castiel sat at the base of the tree blankly staring at the scene before him. Dean waved his hand in front of his face.

"Oh well that's awesome! I help you find your friend and he's gone off the deep end!" Dean shouted at Sam, not noticing Castiel blink back to consciousness.

"He's not crazy, just a little…different." Sam defended. Dean gave him a look. He had noticed the man couldn't even put on a tie properly.

"Of course, because going off in the woods and staring into space doesn't constitute being shipped off to a loony bin."

Dean raised his arms in a belligerent motion.

"There is no need to ship me anywhere. I am perfectly capable of travelling myself." Castiel interjected. He was staring at the back of Dean's head and watched him turn around. Castiel got a shock that ran through his spine when he saw his face. His voice was rough and deep…but his face was even better. His hair was mussed in the perfect fashion that it looked messy and casual, yet formal. His scruff was a day too old and his face appeared tired, although he was quite young. Dean felt similar feelings when he made eye contact with him. Cas's hair didn't even resemble order and his face was welcoming; soft. Dean paused for a moment before spluttering out an incoherent string of words.

"What the…why have you..you should..Sam…seriously?"

Sam stepped in front of Dean to shield Castiel from his venom, not realizing he already was losing steam. Sam spoke softly but in a demanding tone.

"Where have you been? One minute you're on my side, the next you're gone. We were going to see Dean." Castiel wasn't sure why he was so upset; he was still meeting Dean anyway, though he was a little more…taken with him than any human he'd encountered.

"I was distracted by the trees." He pointed up, "They have so much fruit."

That was the first time Dean noticed the apple cores and plum pits that littered the ground in a pile near the branch. He tried to illicit the sarcastic retort that came to mind but the words disintegrated on his lips. Sam sighed.

"Come on." Sam said as he offered his hand to Castiel to stand up. Castiel stared at it, almost confused. It looked pale and soft.

"Castiel, take it." Sam said urgently. Castiel slowly slid his hand into Sam's. Hesitantly he grasped it tight. He met Sam's eyes, confused by what he was doing. Dean looked at their hands intertwined and slight jealousy welled up. Sam jerked on Castiel's hand and pulled him to his feet. Castiel wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't that. He took a moment to compose himself, then looked at Sam's face. It appeared like he was staring, awed, into Sam's eyes, but truly he was trying to covertly peak at Dean's face in his peripheral vision.

"Castiel, this is Dean. Dean as you already know, this is Castiel." Sam gestured to both scruffy men beside him. Dean held out his hand for Castiel to shake, but Castiel hesitated, not sure if this would be like what Sam did. But he was already standing…so why would he do that? He decided to take Dean's hand, not sure what he was doing, yet again. Dean tried to act normal as his breath hitched as he touched Cas. It was his turn for it, and he liked it. They both were immersed in the rough feel of each other's hands and Sam, having no other distractions, was held witness to the tense moment. Castiel kind of…_liked _this odd ritual, he thought. Dean noticed the way Castiel reacted and assumed he was feeling the same way, so to smooth over the tension he diverted the attention to him.

"You know, you're one weird dude." Dean commented. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I don't think you're one to talk, Dean." Sam referred to their bizarre demon hunting lifestyle. Little did they know Castiel understood that reference, not that he let on he did. In fact Castiel knew more of what was going on than either of the other two. After a long pause Castiel broke the silence.

"Weren't we going out for burgers?" He asked. Sam was relieved for Castiel's sake.

"That couldn't have been said any better." Dean was beginning to like the man more and more.

The restaurant proved mundane. It wasn't really a restaurant as a run-down diner with apparently too much food and too little customers to eat it. The portions were huge, which was just about the only noticeable feature to the place. They chose to eat in rather than feast in the equally mundane motel they were staying at. Castiel ordered coffee, which struck Dean as odd, but that was most likely because he wasn't one to touch the stuff himself. They all ordered cheeseburgers with waffle fries, and Dean drank the beer that was brought to him.

"So Cas, what brings you around my brother?" Dean asked. Castiel thought up a good story to tell him rather than the truth, which was that he was an angel assigned to them.

"I was out late and on a bender when Sam found me fighting off...a woman who attacked me." He had nearly said 'spirit'. "He helped me, and she never bothered me after that."

The truth was that Castiel wasn't actually drunk, he just appeared that way to Sam because he was such an eccentric character. Sam was out for a nightly walk when he saw that Castiel was under attack from a spirit and killed her, although he made sure Castiel didn't see. Even though Castiel knew exactly what she was, Sam thought he was an average ignorant human, and made sure to conceal the incident. Afterward Sam told him that the woman ran away. Dean understood the weight of the situation and gazed at Sam a moment longer than usual before returning his eyes to Castiel's.

"Is that so? Well it's a good thing he was there to help. Sammy is always finding trouble to run into." He winked at Sam to discourage his protests.

"So are you from around here?" Dean asked Cas.

"No, I come from Oregon." Cas said, thinking of the first state he could.

"Really? What brings you out to Alabama?"

Sam only listened to the conversation, but he was intrigued also.

"Just a calling I had." Cas said, trying to be vague. It was coincidental that he was telling the truth. Dean raised the bottle to his lips and took a swig. Castiel forced himself to look down at his coffee so he didn't stare at them. He was told once that it was thought to be 'creepy'. At that moment the waitress, thankfully, brought their food. Castiel's stomach rumbled and Dean hungrily stared at it. Dean let out a soft whistle.

"I've never seen so much for one meal."

"That's surprising since you can pack this much in fast food cheeseburgers any day." Sam retorted.

"I never said I wasn't going to eat it all."

Castiel was too busy munching on his bacon from the cheeseburger to even remotely pay attention to their conversation. He was already elbow deep in burger when they noticed him.

"Damn, Cas. Are you even chewing?" Dean asked.

"Yes." He smiled. "These make me…very happy."

Throughout the rest of their meal they didn't say much, but not much needed to be said. Just because it's not spoken, doesn't mean it's not there.

Although they had just met Castiel and it would have been customary for him to rent his own motel room, they opted to let him spend the night, since it didn't seem logical for him to have to pay for another room. The brothers rode to the Vishal motel in Dean's sleek, black Impala. Castiel stayed behind to do some errands, but met them later by 'calling a cab'. He was told by his comrades to use that excuse since he wasn't familiar with the finer points of how humans operated.

"Here. This should be enough for the night." Sam said as he laid down more blankets that he had found in the motel closet. Since Castiel was the guest he was given a bed to himself and the sleeping arrangements would consist of Dean and Sam in the same bed. They didn't seem to have too much of an issue with it.

"Thank you." He said, watching Dean walk to the bathroom as he did. Dean shut the door behind him. Moments later the pattering of the showerhead came through the wall. Castiel was painfully aware of every sound that came from the bathroom and tried to preoccupy himself, but ended up staring at his creased palms and fiddling with his fingers. He heard a soft metallic sound and Dean's footsteps into the shower. Castiel laid back and grabbed the nearest book to him, they had many, and he opened it to the first page. The title read Supernatural. He sat back and began to read what he soon found to be actual events of their life. Sam looked over and noticed Castiel engrossed in the book and was thankful he hadn't found his father's journal. Soon Dean walked out of the bathroom and a wave of hot steam escaped the doorway, distracting Castiel from the book in his lap. Castiel noticed he must take very hot showers with how much was pouring out. He also noticed a flash of silver around Dean's neck and inspected it further to see a pendant dangling on his strong chest. Dean wore a black t-shirt and the same perfectly worn jeans from earlier. Castiel stood, set the book down, and went in the bathroom. He looked in the mirror at his tan trench coat and another flash of silver caught his eye. It was a thick banded ring wedged under the drain stop. The sizable, dark gemstone that was melded into the silver was probably the only thing that stopped the ring from slipping down the drain into oblivion. He plucked it from the drain, closed his palm around it, and tucked it in his pocket; meaning to give it to Dean once he was done in the bathroom.

Castiel sat back on the bed to find Sam already curled up under the covers in his bed. Dean was in the sitting in corner on his laptop. He walked up behind Dean and watched him using the laptop. Dean was on a site that was full of kitten pictures and was looking in his favorites which consisted of a collage of black cats of any breed and size. Dean was unaware that he was behind him and Castiel felt it was probably a private moment so he silently moved back to the bed and removed his trench coat, leaving it on the headboard of his bed with the soft crinkling of stiff fabric. Castiel turned his back to Dean and Sam and closed his eyes. He started to feel the pull of sleep and fell into a light slumber. Dean hadn't known that Castiel had been so close behind him moments before. He glanced over to Cas curled up on the bed, not even bothering to unfold his blankets and use them. He looked back to his screen and tried to continue but couldn't ignore Cas. He took a reflexive deep breath and stood, walking over to the pile of blankets. Dean picked up the top one and unfolded it. It had gold stars printed all along the black fabric. Dean then whipped it up until it billowed out and slowly lowered it onto the curled form of Cas. As Dean adjusted the blanket around his shoulders his hand brushed Cas's face and Dean swore he could feel sparks. He jerked his hand back and went to his laptop once again, trying to push the thoughts out of his mind.

Later that night Dean slipped out of his t-shirt and pulled back the covers where Sam laid. He sat on the bed and slid under the blankets. He only wore baggy sweatpants, which was because they were most comfortable to sleep in. Dean laid his head on the cheap, worn pillow and tucked his knee near Sam. Sam was extremely warm and it was comforting to Dean. He had always been a human furnace, since they were kids. He found himself staring at Sam's dark, long hair that curled in just the right places. It was a familiar sight and Dean was lulled into comfort, and he fell asleep almost instantly. The night wore on without a sound until Castiel's coat dropped from the headboard and thumped to the floor. He woke with little effort and looked around for the culprit of the sound. His coat laid crumpled on the floor and he picked it up to rehang it when a small hard object made a dull thud on his knuckle. Castiel reached into the pocket to pull out the large silver ring. He had forgotten to give it to Dean. He looked over at Dean's sleeping form and considered when to give it to him. He played with the well-worn edges of the ring and stared down into the dark gem. Suddenly he was standing next to Dean and stared down on his blissful face. Dean's mouth was open and his breathing was even. Castiel reached out and slowly lifted Dean's warm, soft hand; the same as it had felt earlier. He gave the ring a squeeze and gently slid the ring onto his left ring finger. Just as he began to lower his hand, Dean stirred in his sleep and elicited a small moan. Castiel's heart jumped a little in his chest and he became concerned that his vessel had gotten damaged somehow, but when he stopped to wait for another skip it never came. Castiel crawled back in bed, putting off the sensation, although still concerned, and fell asleep.

The next morning they were going to leave Castiel in the town of Vishal without a goodbye but he woke up in the middle of their packing.

"Are you leaving?" Castiel managed to croak out in his sleepy haze. His hair was, unbelievably, messier than it had been the day before. Dean tried hard not to notice, and turned his head with a pleading look to Sam.

"Uh, yeah we have to get going. Traffic and all, you know?" Dean fumbled for a response.

"You were going to leave me alone here without telling me?" He asked with a smaller voice than before. Dean had no good way to respond to that. He just wanted to leave without a goodbye because, truth was, he didn't like having these feeling. Thankfully Sam had the sense of answer him.

"We wanted to let you sleep. You seemed tired." Sam softly spoke as he picked up the last of his stuff and handed it to Dean. Dean was thankful for the excuse to leave and took the mound of clothes fit for Sam's six foot four inch frame. He walked out to the car and thrust the pile into the backseat. Castiel watched him leave the room and hoped he would return, but he never did.

"Sammy! Let's go!" Dean yelled, standing next to his '67 Chevy Impala. Sam glanced at Castiel a moment longer before turning, with a sigh, to leave. He gave him a quick wave of his hand and a goodbye, and then met Dean at the Impala. Dean tried really hard to say goodbye, but couldn't find it in himself to conjugate the words beyond a low mumble, which Cas would obviously never hear. They both opened the doors and dropped into the seats, doors slamming simultaneously. Dean started the ignition with a stutter and the engine came alive to a solid rumble. They turned out of the motel parking lot and took off down the crumbling, dusty road.

Throughout the whole morning Sam was uncomfortable. He hadn't noticed anything weird between Castiel and Dean until he found Dean in his face pushing on him to wake up and telling him to keep quiet. Apparently something had transpired in his sleep. He didn't know what was going on with Dean and it took half an hour of silence before Sam cracked.

"What the hell, Dean. What is going on with you? Is it something Castiel did?" He demanded. Dean took a long moment before speaking. He wasn't one to want to spill his emotions, although Sam always made it a conquest of his to drag them out of him.

"It's just that I didn't get good vibes from him, that's all. I found a case to work on anyway." Dean was trying to divert the attention from Cas. Sam waited a moment for him to elaborate on either of those statements but was met with silence.

"Ooookay. So just like that, you don't like him? Seriously Dean, what is going on with you?"

"It's nothing much. We just didn't hit it off, okay? Are you going to make this into some kind of heart to heart?" Dean was jumping the gun. He didn't realize just how the situation looked from Sam's perspective. It would be expected for Sam to question it, since Dean was still acting twitchy at that very moment.

"Did he… did he come on to you or something?" The question had hit so close to home that Dean reached over and grabbed his Metallica tape, shoving it in the cassette player, just to keep himself from getting irritated with Sam. He sighed.

"No, he just wasn't my type. Get off it Sam." Sam noticed that Dean was absentmindedly rubbing the band of their mother's ring on his left ring finger, which caught Sam's attention since he always wore it on his _right_ hand. The strokes seemed vicious and Sam felt so left behind, watching him continue to caress the ring. Before Sam had any more chance to speak Dean cut in.

"We're going to Burgundy. There have been 5 reported cases of families being murdered in their home. Each house is different so it's not a haunted house, but what is the bigger mystery is that one kid is snatched from every family. They never found the bodies and no one has seen them alive. It's a case of hide your wife and hide your kids if I've ever heard one."

"Maybe it's not supernatural. Are you sure it's not just some normal serial killer going around and killing families and taking a kid as a trophy or selling them or something?"

"No, because no average serial killer has an invisibility cloak from their dad. Unless this killer was insanely good at disabling security, it wasn't a human. The murders were done in a rich neighborhood. Everyone is loaded and can afford to have their houses more secure than the pentagon." After Dean explained the situation to Sam it took him a moment to take all the information in.

"It would be really hard to steal an unwilling kid without someone noticing. Spirit; demon maybe. Good work Dean. I'm surprised you did all that yourself. Usually I find you out cold in the morning with a huge search history of porn and empty beer bottles." Sam sarcastically commented. Dean winked at him.

"There's always time for that too, but you passed out early so I got a good couple hours to research before that part."

"I've prayed that one day you'll stop informing me of such things." Sam said.

"Oh really?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"It seems there's no one in heaven willing to lend any duct tape." Sam said, not realizing the true weight of what he just said. He reached over and grabbed his dad's well used journal.

"I think I remember reading about something like this spirit in dad's journal." He flipped through pages and scanned his fingers along, then stopped.

"Here. It appears we're dealing with a Baguul." He turned the book so that Dean could see the rough sketch of a masked and cloaked figure. The face was white and had unfamiliar streaks of black running along the eyes and jawline.

"It's called "The Child Eater" because it takes a kid every time it strikes. No one finds the children later and it is believed that the spirit feeds off their souls, without any traces of a body." A symbol was drawn in the top corner of the page. It looked like a Star of David mixed with a pentagram.

"What's that? I've never seen it before." Dean reached over, hovering his pointer finger above the black marks.

"I'm not sure. It doesn't say anything about that." Sam said, inspecting the odd mark without explanation.

"I suppose when we find this son of a bitch we'll figure it out."

"Yeah, I just don't _want _to know what this could mean." Sam whispered to himself, deep in thought; then went silent. He didn't like it when dad's journal left information out. He yearned for a strong internet connection, but reminded himself that they've been to hell and back. Not much could really surprise them.

As they sat in the car the music became infectious. The song, Master of Puppets, was so familiar to both of them it was nearly impossible to ignore the lyrics and musically grating guitar. Dean broke out in soft singing next to Sam and he soon followed. They drove down the road in a loud impromptu duet of bass and tenor.

They arrived in the city of Burgundy, Alabama four hours later. The rural area didn't seem much different than Vishal but once they got near the city it was obvious where the priority was. While the roads were in poor condition, the houses were pristine and the lawns were well watered compared to the world around them. Dean drove through a neighborhood that seemed to stretch forever. Block after block, street after street and Dean finally found the address of the house. He pulled over the Impala and parked it across the road from the house and got out. The house was huge and lined with brown stone all along its giant entrance. The sidewalk looked nice and, to Dean, so was the woman walking on it. A normal woman, not men in motel rooms. He stepped on the sidewalk just as she was passing and he leered at her as she went by. He gave her a quick smile and nod, meeting her eyes, but she gave him a look of disgust and outwardly scoffed at him. Sam saw the incident.

"What? Do I stink?" He announced in question as he turned his head to his shoulder and took a whiff before pulling the corners of his mouth down in a 'seems fine to me' manner, and raising his brows.

"No, that would just be the kind of people around here. Girls who've got money don't need to cheapen themselves for you, Dean."

"Of course you know everything Sam. You would know because you've always been the people pleaser. Mr. I've Got Friends-" That's when Dean stopped; because he realized that the last 'friend' of Sam's he met was… No. He refused to think about that. Dean pulled out his fake I.D. and approached the house. He had left the guns in the car but was confident in not needing them. Sam stood in front of Dean as he knocked on door with the silver knocker. A young pretty blonde woman answered the door moments later, but aren't they always? She opened her pink glossed lips but couldn't say anything for a moment.

"Hello, miss Azervald?"  
"Who….are you?" She asked the two scruffy and attractive men that stood before her.

"We are with the FBI and we are investigating the murders in the town. I am agent Scully, this is agent Moulder" Sam said as he suavely pulled out his badge whilst lightly tossing his hair to look at her. He flipped it open and she barely glanced at it, allowing him into the house. A moment of understanding crossed her face. He thought she was a nice young woman; one that wasn't as vain as the rest of the area.

"Come right in, what would you like to know?" She asked, clasping her hands together and pointedly looking at them.

"Well we were wondering-" He sat on her newly upholstered corner couch. "Wondering if there have been any…occurrences in the house since you've moved in."

"If there's been anything hinky going on." Dean added. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed the boiling water on the stove. She looked at them for a moment and considered lying to them, but they didn't seem like the judgmental type.

"Well, we moved in about two weeks ago, but I have been hearing some strange sounds. I woke up in the middle of the night to hear scratching, moving noises. I followed the sound and found Damion in a box. He was delirious and kicked and screamed when I tried to get him back into bed. Is that the kind of stuff you mean?" Dean looked to Sam. This proved that this was supernatural.

"Uh, yeah that's great. Is there anything else?" Dean asked her.

"Tea?" She asked and they both nodded. She brought over a tray for them. A small patch of skin was healing on along the back of her jaw. Her hair covered it well.

"There was one other thing. Some old films were in the attic. They were labeled with dates and names, but I can't watch them because we don't have such an old film player." They all sipped their tea.

"Can we see these…films?" Sam asked waving his cup once. She didn't even hesitate.

"Yeah…yeah sure." She walked away and footsteps were heard on the stairs. Moments later she returned with a dusty box of tapes. They looked at the sharpie labels and inspected the dates. Some looked familiar to Dean and it dawned on him why. He didn't say anything but Sam noticed his epiphany.

"Can we take them?" Dean said.

"Sure it's not like I can do anything with them anyway." She said to him catching his eye as he smiled at her. She'd noticed him doing that a lot, but liked tall one instead. Scully? That was the name wasn't it?

"Thank you, very much. Can we talk to your son now?" Sam asked the woman. A flicker of confusion crossed her face.

"Damion? He's….not my son, he's my brother." She informed them. That was the exact moment that someone opened the front door and before anyone had time to react a man appeared it the living room doorway.

"Iris, who the hell are these people?" The man was gruff and aggressive.

"They're cops, dad. They're here about the case with the people who died here." Iris defended. Her dad grew even angrier.

"You know how I feel about cops! You don't even know these…men and you let them in our house, and talk about people you don't even know!" The man turned to Dean and Sam. He wore a thick jacket and a medium sized beard that added to his intimidation. He pointed to the door and Dean and Sam took the hint to drop their tea.

"You better get out of my sight within the next thirty seconds." He said, shaking with fury. Dean scrambled to grab the box of films and Sam slipped Iris a card with their number. He leaned over and made it look like a motion of getting up.

"If you feel in danger call us." He covertly whispered as he stood. His hair fell in her face and she inwardly smiled, though didn't dare to outwardly with her father around. Both of them hustled out the door with Dean cursing himself for not packing heat under his leather coat. They shut the door and nearly made it to the sidewalk before hearing the father blow up at the young girl.

"You let cops, COPS, into our house. Did you even think about your little brother? What if they weren't actually cops? Hmm? They could have hurt either of you. How could you be so stupid?!" There was silence on the other end and they both stopped on the sidewalk. There could be heard a small but still audible blow. Where it had hit, they had no idea, but it was obvious that the impression of their family life had immediately changed. Sam and Dean looked to each other with softened expressions and they both felt pity for the children of the house, even actual concern.

Dean slammed the car door shut and started the engine with more than the usual vigor. He was stony silent for a while, and then exploded.

"A girl! Sam, what the hell! She was a little girl! How could I have not known? And the way her father treated her-" Dean wasn't sure how to put the end into words.

"I know Dean. People don't have the same lives we did. Although our childhood sucked, it wasn't as tragic as both of us believe. Dad always did the best he could. Let's just try to find the spirit, and not meddle in other people's lives." He thought about the last thing he said to her and cringed. The words had hit so close to home that it seemed cruel. For the rest of the drive to their next motel they were silent.

Once they checked into the much nicer motel Dean decided to find a reel to reel player.

"I should be back within an hour. If not I'm either dead or in the process of becoming." With the tip of a sarcastic salute Dean left the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. Dean soon arrived at the library five minutes down the road. After a lot of searching and questioning looks he had checked out a full sized reel to reel film player.

"Whoa, haven't seen one of those since the attic in our third house." Sam commented as Dean came crashing through the door with the player, his hair extremely disheveled. He set it down with a thud and they worked to set up a blank space on a wall in the room. After shifting a TV, lamp, and end table they had sufficient room to watch the film. Dean strung the film dated back the farthest in thick Sharpie.

**July 25 **

**Ruemens**

**194 222****nd**** Ave****.**

"What is this all about? Suddenly feel the need for nostalgia?" Sam demanded.

"They're the dates of the families' murders. I thought these would help." He said as he sat on the bed, turning the lamp on and starting it.

"You don't think…you don't think these are the murders do you? What kind of sick freak-?" He fell silent as the film projected on the wall, playing the scene of a pool. It was a silent film, so they were left to listen to each other's rough breathing. It was dark out, but you could make out the images of ropes across the pool attached on the other side to lounge chairs; they had people strapped down in them. A rope pulled taught and a chair was dragged into the pool. The man inside fell head first and was enveloped in bubbles. His feet were the only part visible, kicking wildly, until they ceased to move at all. There were three chairs left; a woman, a teenage girl, and a toddler boy. They all met the same tragic fate. Dean and Sam made noises of disgust and disbelief. The camera moved to show something walking in the water. It was the baguul. They had just started to take in the figure when there was a bright flash of light and the wall went blank.

Dean grabbed the film flying around in circles along the reel and inspected it.

"Damnit!" He exclaimed.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The films been edited. See?" He turned the film flat so Sam could see him pointing to the end.

"It's been cut. Whoever did it was so careless that they cut it halfway through a frame." He explained. The cut wasn't even straight. It was like whoever cut it could barely use scissors, the edge was so jagged.

"There was something they didn't want us seeing." Sam whispered as Dean reached in the box and pulled out the next date.

"The real mystery is who is on the other side of that camera."

September 8

McCarthys

712 Eucalyptus Blvd.

The grainy film began with a browning lawn. The only thing the film showed was a close up of the grass. Again it was dark. The view shifted to stare down a push mower handle. The mower started vibrating, which they took to mean that it was turned on. It began to move across the lawn; quickly. The only light was provided from the camera and it only showed two feet ahead of the mower. Suddenly faces appeared in front of the mower so fast they couldn't process the images. One by one the mower passed over them, the video not showing the aftermath of the gruesome attack. Another family. This time their mouths had been duct taped and they were bound with rope. Two parents, one young boy. Their cringes at the sudden turn of events were nearly audible. Sam sucked in a deep breath. The camera lifted up to show the baguul, standing behind a tree directly in front of the camera. This time the white and black face was visible and extremely disturbing. Without warning the film flashed bright and, just like the other, went blank.

"Another?" Sam asked, and Dean inspected the end once again. This time the cut was slightly better, but still extremely messy.

"If only we could time travel. We'd go and find this son of a bitch, take it down."

**October 12**

**Turners**

**1042 Terrace Lane **

Family of 4 (not counting the missing child). Hung in their own back yard.

**January ****30**

**Wimbledons**

**569 ****Kilter Road**

Family of 5. Decapitated with an axe and their blood used to draw symbols on the walls.

March 4

Andersons

1599 County Road I

Family of 3. Trapped inside their cars with chains, drenched with gas, and lit on fire. Except this last one was different. It didn't end with a flash of light.

The camera continued to even after showing the baguul standing on a shelf in the flaming garage. The fire grew and flickered, engulfing the screaming faces. A mass of blonde hair appeared beside the car. It was a child walking away from behind the camera. He turned around at the wall and smiled. The flames lurched out as if to lick his skin, but he was too far away. He looked to be about 14 and before a word could be said between the two men, the boy turned around and took hold of the baguul, walking toward the exit door and leaving the car to turn to ashes.

A few moments lasted between them before Sam spoke.

"It's the kids. That's why they go missing, Dean." Sam softly said.

"We gotta kill the spirit telling these kids to go OJ Simpson on their families."

Sam agreed with him.

"I had researched the symbol we found in the book-" Sam began to say.

"The same thing appeared in the films." Dean pointed out.

"Yes. And it said that the symbol was used by the baguul to lure the children to bend to its will. If someone sees the symbol and comes into contact with the child, they become easier to be controlled. If a child sees the symbol it becomes powerless to the baguul."

"So if Iris or her brother had seen this symbol they're doomed to become the town's next contract killer?" Dean asked.

"Pretty much." Sam replied. Dean sat for a moment, and then a thought hit him.

"Sam…we've seen that symbol before we met them. In the car. Iris is still a kid and she came into contact with us."

"Oh god." He whispered. "We've just made it possible for them to be possessed."

(THIS IS WHERE A COMMERCIAL WOULD BE PLACED BUT SINCE THIS IS A FIC THERE IS NO REASON FOR SUPER SUPSENSFUL CUTS AND COMMERCIAL BREAKS, ALTHOUGH I FELT IT WAS NECCESARY, TO REALLY FEEL THE EMOTION OF THIS MOMENT)

They both recognized the last address. Of course it was the house they had visited Iris in, but they didn't understand the significance of the other addresses. Sam had researched the other addresses but nothing came up in the search besides the stories of the murders. They continually kept watch on the house and houses around it but they came up with nothing for weeks. There was always a load of salt, torches, gasoline, and guns in the trunk, but there was no reason to use it. Sam knew that if Iris was in trouble she would call.

On one of their morning drives revealed a For Sale sign. They took it as a good sign that the family was leaving the house. It would be less for them to worry about if there weren't people in the house. They weren't sure if the house would even have the baguul since the murders were always in different houses.

The next day they found the moving trucks. It was a quick transition and they guessed it was a quick decision to move. Iris was sitting on the steps watching the men take their possessions out of the garage. They were still boxed up from the move to the house, and now they were being taken to be moved from the house. Sam was curious. He got out of the Impala and approached the girl. She smiled when she noticed him coming toward her.

"Hey, you guys are moving?" Sam said, trying not to tower over her, but failing miserably considering she was sitting.

"Yeah, dad got too freaked. He told us to stop being sissies when we told him what was going on, but he didn't believe us until he was attacked in the house." She said, staring at her pink painted fingernails.

"So, where are you headed then?" He asked.

"Georgia." Her voice hinted that she was not happy about the move but was thankful to get out of the seemingly possessed house. School hadn't started so it was not as big of a deal as it could have been, but this still took a toll on her life. Having a spirit around messes with people.

"Well I hope you all get on better in Georgia." Sam got up and walked away, giving her a small wave as he left. She was happy to see him again, but glad he was leaving her and her dad alone.

They left for their hotel and stayed there for days, waiting for any more information. There wasn't any until one day a call came in through Sam's cell. He checked the number but it was unfamiliar.

"Hello?" Sam was unsure who would be calling him at 10:00 at night.

"Sc-c-ully?" A voice shook out. It was hard to understand what they were saying.

"Uh, I think you have the wrong number-" That was the moment Sam realized why he was being called Scully. Iris still had his call card. "Iris? What's wrong?"

"My brother. He's gone missing and I don't know what to do. I panicked a-and I called you. I don't even know why I'm on the phone with you now." She was extremely shaken, and sounded exasperated with herself.

"Where are you right now?" He asked. Dean was staring at him.

"Our new house. We're in Georgia. God I'm so dumb. You're too far away, and you don't really understand what's going on." She sounded on the verge of tears from the whole turn of events. Little did she know, they knew exactly what was going on.

"Stay there. We'll be around as soon as possible." Sam assured her. She told him their address and hung up, waiting for the cops, that weren't really cops, to come and save her.

Dean sped toward the house. The trip was going to take at least 3 hours of nonstop driving. Dean was treating this as just another case they were working on, but this particular one got under Sam's skin, and he couldn't pinpoint why. He opened his laptop and read the pages he had previously loaded so he could figure out the pattern this spirit had. Why? What made certain families appealing? There had to have been a reason. One would think that once they left the house, they would be in the clear, but clearly they weren't. He went through every house address. They were all in the same neighborhood, so why would it follow them to Georgia? It must have had some kind of attachment to the town, but now was attracted to this particular family. Sam wrote down every address that was victimized. He studied them, staring and thinking until his eyes went blurry.

"Hey, hey Sammy. Whatcha got? You haven't opened your big mouth this whole time."

"I want to know what makes them special. What is it that made it leave Burgundy?"

"Well don't think too hard. I think I see a blood vessel growing on your temple." Dean nodded to him.

"Very funny."

After twenty more minutes of reading and rereading Sam noticed something he had missed all week. There was a mention of two of the addresses in a lengthy article on a news site. He quickly found that the family that died in 1042 Terrace Lane had just moved out of the former McCarthy house, 712 Eucalyptus Blvd. Sam thought that was an extremely specific coincidence and ordered Dean to stop where there was Wi-Fi.

"This better be good." Dean said and he pressed his hand to his head and yawned.

"Just a minute." Sam said. He loaded up the tax records of the houses and within the owners lists were the parents in every family that was killed.

Julian Rueman

Andrew McCarthy

Harrison Turner

Giselle Wimbledon

Tammy Shimon

All of them were now extinguished from the fire of life at the hands of their children. Sam went still for a moment.

"Oh. Oh no." Sam whispered. His hush was disconcerting to Dean.

"What? What's this epiphany?" He demanded. Sam didn't answer for a moment.

"It's the houses. That's what's doing it." He said. Dean waited for a moment, then raised his brow and shook his head.

"Aaaaannnd? We may be close but I can't read your mind, babycakes."

"They move into a murder home thinking it's a steal because of the price, but they just attract the spirit. Creepy things happen and they move, only to wind up dead within a week. Dean, it's been a week." Dean thought about what Sam was saying.

"This thing wants them, and they moved just like the others." Sam pointed out.

"They've just sped up its timeline." Dean said, squealing his tires as he ripped out of the parking lot they had been in.

(Back In Black plays in the background)

*It was around 1:00 in the morning when they arrived; the very middle of the night and the time evil seemed to always prefer. Dean turned the headlights off before approaching the house, so he wouldn't wake the obviously protective father in case he was there. He turned the car off by the neighboring house so the engines deep vibrato wouldn't be detected either. Both of them got out and slowly shut the doors with purposely soft clicks. They crunched across the gravel and Sam ever so lightly knocked on the house door. There was a long moment of silence. Not even a breeze stirred in the night, like it didn't dare disturb the evil lurking around the property. The door handle shifted once, then slowly turned until the door opened the tiniest of cracks.

"Scully?" Iris whispered tentatively from behind the wood.

"Hi. We're here now. Is your father home?"

The door opened a little crack more, and the frightened face of Iris showed in the moonlight.

"No. What's going on? Why is my brother gone? You guys just don't understand." The girl couldn't make up her mind. "Just find him. Please." She pleaded.

"We will. When did you last see him?" Sam asked. Surprisingly Dean was okay with Sam continually taking control.

"Damion was in the shower. I could hear the water running. It was going for the normal length of time and stopped. I didn't think it was weird until…he never came out of the bathroom. There aren't any windows, his clothes were gone, and the door was locked. That's when I got really scared."

"You're sure he's not in the house anywhere?" Sam asked.

"No, I looked everywhere." She choked back a sob. Sam and Dean looked to each other and both could tell what the other was thinking. They went back to the car for flashlights.

"Hey, Dean you didn't by chance figure out how to kill this thing when you researched, did you?"

"Yeah I did.…we're gonna have to torch this bastard." Dean said with a sense of purpose as he whipped out two torches and a bottle of gasoline.

"How exactly do you torch a spirit, Dean?"

Dean gave a little smirk.

"Easy." He said, grabbing a can of spray paint while Sam picked up the flashlights.

They roamed around the yard, always keeping each other's back. Dean found a nice place to lure the spirit to. He painted a symbol on the ground he used to trap dark beings, and turned to Sam.

"Get the boy, put him here." He pointed to the symbol now spattered with red paint. Sam nodded and went over in the woods while holding a blow torch, far enough from Dean, but also still close enough to see him.

"Damion!"

"Damion!" They both called to the boy, hoping to attract him.

"Damion!"

"Damion, I've got a treat, boy!" Dean said swiping the pad of his finger along the flame release on his torch.

They worked their way through a good three hundred feet of thick, dark, oak woods together. There was a small prick in the distance that couldn't have been more than fifty feet from them. They stood stock still.

"Damion?" Sam asked quietly, slowly turning his head to look at the origin of the sound. There was an odd guttural sound, but it was human. It was higher pitched than expected, and a moan followed the growl. They went to the sound, cautiously approaching. Sam pulled back the brush until he found a boy, most likely Damion, curled up on the ground. Sam reached out to touch him, his long golden brown hair falling into his face. The boy didn't react to the contact, so Sam tugged at his arm and found his eyes to be closed. He was muttering things and shaking, but he was unintelligible.

*"Okay, up you go." Dean said as he dropped his flashlight and painted the symbol on his forehead with his finger. He picked up the boy, cradling his fragile frame in his arms, but the boy never woke, even after the extreme shift in position. Dean carried him all the way to the painted symbol, aware that he was capable of murder. He set him down in the circle hoping to trap the spirit inside. He was in the process of removing the symbol from his forehead when lights came in the driveway. It was the father, his car was unmistakable. Dean and Sam ducked behind the house, hoping that he hadn't seen them, and he might not have if it weren't for the shining beacon of light emitting from the dropped flashlight. Sam ran, his long legs propelling him to reach that flashlight, but it was too late. A disoriented man came crashing around the house yelling at them.

"I told you I wanted you _in_ _bed_ right now! Iris you're in deep trouble for this." He ran all the way until he found his son abandoned in the circle. "What the hell? Damion?" He knelt down and touched his shoulder, but the boy didn't wake. That's when he noticed the symbol half smudged on his head. He rubbed it. Sam and Dean watched from behind the air conditioner.

"Iris! I better see your ass here in 5 seconds!" He stood with fists ready.

"Hello…daddy." She said the last word with so much malice that the brothers flinched. They knew why she said it like that. She stood next to their back sliding glass door. Her shape was cloaked in shadow and her pale face was hard to make out.

"You knew he was here the whole time. What did you do to your brother?" The father was livid. He gesture wildly toward the boy.

"Nothing he didn't deserve." She said. This surprised Sam and Dean. The shake had been removed from her voice and replaced with a hardened tone; confidence. They had been convinced she wasn't the one doing this, but her words spoke volumes otherwise. She approached them from the shadows, and walked along the stone patio in their yard. A loud, scraping, tinny sound followed her and it took a moment for them to notice the aluminum bat dragging behind her. *Her dad straightened a bit, but still didn't back down in his anger.

"Iris, drop the bat. You are going to bring him in and you will go to bed! I don't know what any of this nonsense is, but it will end this instance!"

Iris continued to drag the bat and approached her father.

"But daddy, the fun was just getting started." She complained, and lifted the bat. Her long uncovered legs shone in the moonlight below her short plaid skirt. That was the moment that Dean took off running to restrain the girl. Sam reacted and ran to take out the father before Dean found himself in an altercation with him. Dean went straight for the girl and ripped the bat out of her hands without her having time to react. She reached out and grabbed the very edge of his leather coat when she finally realized what had happened. Sam went up behind the father and caught the bat that Dean threw over his head. He hit the man in a pressure point; enough to incapacitate him for a moment or two. The bearded man fell to the ground, crumpling into a grubby pile of flannel. Iris screamed and pulled at Dean, nearly jumping on his back, but thankfully he was too tall. Sam dropped the bat and ran to Dean's aid, but she bit Dean and went after Sam. He held his hands out to ward her off. He didn't have the blow torch, but he wouldn't have used it on the girl anyway. He was a hunter, not a savage. She tore at Sam's arms with her long, pink fingernails, and he bent over to lift her onto his shoulder, but the father was conscious again and had grabbed the bat. The father whacked Sam on the head and his vision spotted out. He fell on the girl he was trying to save and blacked out of consciousness.

*"Hello Sam. Long time no see." A voice purred from the blackness.

"No." Sam was frustrated to say the least. "Not right now. Get away from me."

"Aw. Sammy, don't you miss me?" The voice approached. Sam moved away from where the voice was coming from. He didn't feel like talking to any fallen angels at the moment. He needed to get back to Dean before he got himself killed.

"Lucifer, leave me alone. Let me go back." He knew that Lucifer had the power to keep him here as long as he pleased, and Sam wasn't prepared for a battle for his soul.

"Isn't it enough that I stopped you from ending the world? What more could you take from me? I'm a broken soul." Sam said, exasperated and growing more and more paranoid about his brother. Lucifer laughed.

"I don't want your soul. No that wouldn't satisfy me one bit. I want your body." He purposely left those words hanging without explanation to make Sam uncomfortable.

"What?" He said almost breathlessly.

"Be my vessel. It'll be fun. You get to stay, and I get to visit; permanently." A light turned on above Sam. It wasn't bright so it didn't blind him; in fact it was quite dim. Sam sat so still, waiting for him, and he emerged in front of Sam. His blonde hair glowed, like moonlight sat upon his head. Lucifer tilted his head and gave Sam the same squinty eyed smile he always had. Sam shifted uncomfortably, almost forgetting his brother, but the niggling in that part of his brain wouldn't leave, thankfully.

"Are you…are you wiping my memory?" Sam asked. He felt an odd tug in his mind, which ironically this entire thing _was_ his mind, but it was in his imaginary body's mind that he felt it.  
"Why ever would I want to do that?" Lucifer said almost convincingly innocent.

"Get out!" Sam said waving his arms and then realizing, he wasn't trying to wipe his memory. That tug was Lucifer trying to make room for himself! "Get OUT!" He growled as he stood, ready to push the blonde man standing in front of him. He disappeared and Sam found himself face first in the grass. It smelled of chemicals; like it was taken care of.

(This wasn't because of Imagine Dragons because apparently you need to know that to fully understand the dynamic of this fanfic. Who am I kidding, I'm just trying to feel important)

Dean had watched as Sam fell to the ground and worried he was critically hurt. He wanted to run and drop to Sam's side and make sure the only kin of his left in the world wasn't going to leave him just yet. There was a flash of blinding white hot behind his eyelids and it physically pained him to not be near his brother. Iris squirmed and screamed from beneath Sam. She bit his neck and her chest heaved as his weight crushed her. The father ran over to Sam and threw him off of her. He inspected his face.

"YOU! Dirty cops! Why are you back here! Can't leave us alone?"

Iris lunged for the bat, but Dean snatched it up at the last second. She screeched, ready to attack, just like her father who was coiling to sucker punch the unconscious Sam. The man's fist stopped midair and he stood stunned for a long moment. Dean became distracted by the father and the man who stood behind him, holding his fist within inches of his face. The very same man that took his breath away before had just done it again. The contours of his face weren't even marred by the anger that flared across it. Dean soon felt a hit to his gut as the bat was ripped from his hands and violently deposited on his stomach. Dean doubled over, expecting another hit, but it never came. He squinted up to see Cas holding the bat. The girl was sitting in the symbol, savagely beating at an invisible fortress, and the father was nowhere to be found. Damion was still curled on the ground entranced.

"Cas? Cas, what the hell!?" His face couldn't portray the epic confusion he was experiencing. Cas didn't say a word for a while. It was a while too long for Dean, as he stared at his perpetually furrowed brow and pout lips.

"I suppose there's no way to keep it a secret any longer, but it appears you already know I'm an angel sent to protect you." Dean straightened at this news. He thought the scruffy man who couldn't tie a tie properly was just a freak show waiting to happen, but now he realized this man was possibly just socially inept because he wasn't….human.

"I haven't seen any angels. Not for the 30 years I've been around."

Cas tilted his head at the comment.

"But I'm standing here right now. I am an angel of the lord." Cas's deep voice cut into Dean's soul. Before Cas had any time to say more Dean was rushing to the large form on the ground. Sam had moved his arm, with difficulty, but Dean noticed. He was breathing heavily, but otherwise he seemed unharmed.

"Sammy, hey. You in there you big moose?" He joked, trying to make the mood a little lighter. He was aware that Lucifer had been giving Sam trouble recently and he wanted to make sure this was Sam and Sam only.

"What the…? Where am I again?" He asked. Dean shook his head and blinked his eyes in surprise.

"We came for that Shia Lebouf girl who just tried to eat your ass." Suddenly the memories flooded back into Sam's conscience and he struggled to sit up. His head pounding from the hit it took.

"Castiel?" Sam asked. His confusion was that of Dean's.

"Yeah. He's an angel of the lord blah blah blah. Apparently we've got ourselves a fairy god mother." He said, trying to gloss over the whole situation and get down to what mattered.

"And the baguul?" He asked.

"Over there." Dean pointed to the deranged girl stuck in neutral.

"We've got to get rid of it." Sam stated the obvious. Dean was relieved. That would be the first thing on his brother's mind, not Lucifer's. * Sam hauled himself to his feet and began to search for the blowtorches, ignoring the girl hysterically pushing on her invisible prison. He found it and picked it up and then realized an important thing.

"Dean, how do we get it out of her? We can't light up a girl."

"Uh, well you see, I never exactly got that far-"

"I'll do it." Cas said as he walked over to Iris. Her face contorted into anger and she stood rigid, ready for the attack with pink fingernails raised. Cas reached over and pushed on her forehead. A symbol flashed quickly then disappeared and he grabbed her from inside the circle. She fell limp in his hands, but she was still conscious, just a little….disoriented. That's when both the brothers gazed inside the symbol. They laid eyes on the spirit. Its dark cloak took on a clichéd air of menace, and its face was the same pale white in stark contrast to the dark black accentuating its eye sockets and jawline. The nose was large and protruded crookedly from between the endlessly black holes that resembled something that would be called eyes. Dean and Sam had seen some pretty disturbing stuff in their day, but this creature affected them to the point they had to avert their eyes.

"Well, light him up, Sammy." Dean said and Sam pulled the ring that released a great burst of flames with vicious intent. He aimed it at the baguul, determined to torch it until he was sure it was gone. The spirit caught on fire and the flames bit at it, raging in a seemingly endless inferno. Dean turned to Cas.

"I guess…you really are an angel. So what did you do with lumberjack?" Dean asked.

"I took him away and placed him in a spirit hold." Dean and Sam had no idea what that was, but assumed the name was self-explanatory.

"Could you get him back…?" Dean asked Cas. He eyed up the tan trench coat and watched as the angel disappeared to return with a haggard man; the father. He wasn't struggling against Cas to their surprise. He was just standing; not doing a thing.

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked, tilting his head to the side.

*"I've got him unconscious. I will wipe his memory and put him in bed." He informed him and disappeared, most likely to put him in bed. He came back with empty arms. Cas walked over to Iris and lifted her to, once again, lay in bed. Lastly he returned to pick up the still sleeping boy. When he had bent over for the boy he noticed a small round object that gleamed in the lush grass. The large dark stone sent a shot of recognition through him, and he lifted the ring, slipping it in his pocket just like last time. It must have slipped off when he laid the boy down. Cas left the boy in his bed and returned, pleased with himself. *He had protected them; the only, but important, duty given to him by the lord.

"So they'll never remember any of this?" Sam asked.

"They shouldn't. Is that an issue?" Castiel asked him, his brows furrowed; they hadn't relaxed the entire time he had known Sam and Dean, or for the eternity Castiel had existed, for that matter.

"No. No it shouldn't." Sam answered. It was true. The technicality was that it _shouldn't_ be a problem to him, but knowing she wasn't going to remember him anymore bothered him. Iris had found Sam, or rather Scully, to be a source of comfort and safety, and now she wasn't going to have that. It struck a chord deep inside him at the thought of letting a young girl down like that. Perhaps it was paternal instinct, but that wasn't supposed to happen until you have children, right? Sam shook his head and followed Dean to pick up the evidence of their presence. They removed any flashlights and blowtorches, and they roughed up the symbol in the grass enough to make it unrecognizable, nearly unnoticeable. They walked, or limped, back to the Impala.

*(What can I say. The Pandora was feeling especially nice today) "Cas, are you gonna want a ride or, do you just want to do your zappy thing wherever?" Dean asked.

"I'll take a ride if that doesn't bother you. I want to know what it's like." Castiel said as he climbed into the back seat.

* "Wait a sec. You mean to tell me you've never been in a car before?" Dean had an incredulous look, his eyebrows were raised.

"No, there's never been a need." Cas informed him.

"Well I guess now is as a good a time as any. You're gonna get your first experience of cars in the best around; my baby. She's a '67 Impala. Never let me down." He stroked the curve of the hood in the pitch black darkness. His hand hesitated a moment longer than necessary and he whipped out his keys with the other hand.

"Get in." He ordered both the moose and the angel next to him. Castiel gracefully slid into the back seat and watched as both the brothers climbed into the well-worn, black, leather seats in front. Dean started the engine with a nice roar, then it calmed to its familiar purr. The rumble of the car gave Castiel great pleasure, as he could feel the human sensations when his chest vibrated. Dean slowly pulled away from the curb and noticed he felt oddly naked, but couldn't even begin to pinpoint why. * Dean found he was enjoying giving Cas this experience. He wanted him to get the full effect and rolled down the windows to let the cool, yet comfortable, fresh night air wash over his face. He even turned on the radio because he was in such a lively mood.

"Bon Jovi? You never listen to anything other than your tapes." Sam raised one eyebrow.

"Bon Jovi rocks…on occasion." He held up his pointer finger to show just how conditional this was. Then he began to quietly sing. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. You give looooove a bad name. I play my part and you play your game. You give looooove a bad name."

His sudden willingness to sing gave Sam the courage to pick up the guitar part in acapella. Sam's attempt at epic chords and a skipping melody was mediocre at best, but it was charming to Dean who recognized that these moments didn't happen often. This one in particular, never. They rode all the way back to the hotel they were at previously, since they had already paid for the night and it was closer to home than any other direction. Dean even still had the room key, which he needed to return.

Surprisingly it had taken very little time to hunt the spirit down, and they arrived back at the motel by 4:25. Dean and Sam collapsed onto their respective beds and fell asleep.

"You can't resist me."

Castiel wasn't sure what exactly to do, so he left. He didn't literally leave the premise though. He couldn't bring himself to leave the man behind that had such a strong gravitational pull on him. The memory of the car ride was so intoxicating, and he would never forget that the man behind that door took the time to give it to him. Castiel waited outside the door to their room and sat in wait until he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom around 11:00 Wednesday morning. He barged right in and stood behind Dean as he brushed his teeth, trying to think of something to say, but he was at lost for words. Imagine, an angel losing his nerve. He was an all-powerful being, and something like this tripped him up? Dean caught a glimpse of Cas in the mirror. He jumped and bent over the sink to spit out his toothpaste.

"Cas, I'm not sure what you know about personal space, but this, _this_ is too close." He gestured to the space between them. "Anyway, where the hell did you come from? Why are you still here?"

Cas contemplated how to answer.

"I wanted to make sure you were safe." He didn't really know if that was a sufficient answer. Dean blinked and shifted his head to the side.

"Look, I haven't had a mother for a while. I don't need one now."

Cas was unsure of what he meant by that reference. He said nothing but just stared at him.

"We're fine. The baddie is gone. You don't need to dote on us." Dean was being particularly heartless because he wanted Cas to leave before anything happened with them. He just didn't understand the feelings he was having about Cas and that scared him a little; maybe even more than a little.

"The last time I thought you were fine Sam was knocked unconscious and you were beaten by a girl." Although the words were ones that an average person would use to insult, Cas said them matter-of-factly, like he was simply making a statement about the weather.

"Well then how would you know to come find us?" Dean asked with accusing eyes.

"You…sent…out a call. You didn't even know you were doing it? I thought you knew…" Cas looked at the ground, trying to sort out what happened.

"What? What do you mean call…? I didn't even know angels existed let alone know how to 'call' them to me." Dean said, almost with anger. There was silence for a moment. "Ohhhhh." A small epiphany popped in Dean's mind. What if that was the pain that was in his head. No, it couldn't have been, could it?

"Your soul called to me and I responded. It was a strong flare."

"Wow. Um, I have to get into new clothes." It was the only thing Dean could think of saying. He didn't want any more reason for Cas to stay, but he was kind of happy to have something to talk about with him. He pushed past Cas and walked out to the Impala. Dean grabbed a fresh pair of artfully ripped jeans, and a clean plaid shirt; one without sweat. Cas stayed in the room. Dean returned and changed…with the door closed. He had learned his lesson. He walked out with his old, dirty clothes and brought them back to the car. On his way out Dean turned on the radio. When Dean returned he turned it up and put on his shoes, lacing them as he called out to Sam.

"Rise and shine Sammy."

Sam stirred on his pillow and moaned.

"My head." He complained, sitting up and massaging his hair into his scalp lazily. He stopped a moment to listen to the song. "Dude, Europe?"

"Oh come on, you love this song and you know it." Dean pulled another bow in his laces.

"Yeah, if I ever hear it again I'm going to kill myself." Sam said as he slipped out of bed. Dean turned the radio up and began lip singing along with the chorus.

"It's the final countdooown." Dean held up one finger and pointed to Sam as he made a 'one' with his other pointer finger. Sam just rolled his eyes and went in the bathroom to brush his teeth.

" Hey, can you go get some breakfast for us Sammy?" Dean asked after he came out of the bathroom, handing him the breakfast order slip already filled out with a big order of pancakes and hash browns with a side of pie. Sam took the slip and quietly walked out the door. Dean found it odd that but didn't say anything about his unusual silence.

"I suppose there's no need for me at the moment." Cas said as he turned to leave. Dean felt a shot of pain when he said that and wanted to ease the feelings Cas was having. He never meant to hurt him. The stupid angel just didn't understand people. He grabbed his tan trench coat that seemed like a permanent fixture on him, and Cas looked back to him. Cas drank in the moment, but slowly pulled from his grasp and left out the door. Dean's eyes dropped to his now empty hand, and felt an echoed feeling in his gut. He walked over and turned down the music, sitting on the bed to wait for the companionship of his brother to return. He sat for a little over five minutes when he heard a small fabric-on-fabric sound. Dean looked up to see Cas once again in his doorway. He was excited on the inside but didn't know how to react to it outwardly. Cas held a small object in his hand. It was round and silver.

"Your ring. I forgot to return it to you." Cas said sadly. Dean looked down and rubbed the naked place on his finger that the ring should have sat.

"Oh, uh. Thank you…very much." He said, not able convey that he was appreciative without seeming overbearing. He ended up seeming quite disconnected. Cas walked over and placed the ring in Dean's palm and a shock passed between them. Cas jerked back slightly but Dean didn't budge. He slipped the ring on and stood, patting Cas on the shoulder like a friend.

"This means a lot to me." At that moment they both stared into each other's eyes. The moment was uncomfortably long but neither could find it in themselves to break the contact. Dean inched closer, not thinking about consequences. He was an angel for christ sake! Dean reached over and pressed the pad of his thumb on Cas's stubble, now a day older than before, and tilted his head slightly with a light grip. Dean took a deep breath and moved in until his mouth made contact with Cas. Their lips interlocked in a tangle of harsh, surprised breaths, and soft inviting sounds that were made involuntarily from the backs of their throats. The kiss lasted long enough that they both wanted more, yet it didn't leave them entirely unsatisfied. Dean pulled back, realizing he had pushed Cas onto the wall, and blushed profusely at his impulsiveness.

"I'm sorry." Cas said, his voice thick with sadness. His eyes fluttered as he attempted to look away from Dean. Dean was taken aback. He stood shocked for a moment, and forced himself to speak.

"Cas, what is there to be sorry for? I'm the one who should be sorry." Cas wouldn't speak and Dean was scared for a moment. Purely frightened of what an angel might do after being molested.

"Your brother." Cas spoke softly.

"What? My brother?" Dean blinked and held the blink, trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

"He's not well." Cas said.

"Why? Nothing's wrong with him. He got a bit beat up yesterday, but otherwise he's fine." Dean could _not_ figure out what Cas was saying.

*"No. Mentally, and spiritually he's been fighting a battle. One I can sense he's about to lose." Cas said, looking at the ground. His lips were especially pout at the moment.

"You don't mean…." Dean trailed off, already going for the check in and breakfast bar. When he got to a small alley between the main office and Room 1, he found Sam laying half out of it. He nearly dropped to the ground, but one thing stopped him; the presence of someone else.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm quite fond of your brother." He said.

**Never Ending Halloween**

To Lexi who was the most gigantic help and I swear writes even neater than this

"Here, take this to your brother." The woman handed a dish full of hearty food to the girl quietly sitting beside her. The girl hesitated then snatched the plate from the woman to bring to her brother. On the way to the stable the young girl couldn't help but steal a few of the sweet cakes that were arranged around the plate. She walked out to the stables and found where her brother resided. She caught a flash of the embroidered H on his coat, a gift from their father, and turned to leave.

"Thank you." He said, as he did every time. She smiled slightly every time he talked to her. The corners of her lips tugged up, then fell into a grimace. If she didn't get back in time that witch of a woman would get angry with her; especially if she thought she was pilfering food.

"What have you done to him?" Dean demanded.

"Oh, we just thought it would be fun to…shack up per say?"

His sarcasm was not well received.

"Lucifer, what the hell did you do to Sam?" He demanded again. "Where is he?"

Dean had a sneaking suspicion Sam's soul was at stake. Cas had said cryptic things that scared Dean. He dropped to his knees and turned Sam onto his back. His head lolled back and his eyes remained closed.

"Sam!" Dean yelled at him. He slapped him across his cheek hard, but there was no response, just the whiplash from Dean's blow. "Get up!" He yelled louder. "Sam, this isn't funny."

"He's still there. Now he's letting me call the shots though." Lucifer laughed lightly to himself.

"You think this is some kind of joke? I-is that what my brother is to you? A conquest?" Dean was beyond angry, though he took care to tread lightly to avoid harm to Sam. Last thing he needed was to lose his brother in hell because he couldn't keep his sass under wraps, and right about now he was sassing the devil.

"He's never been a conquest. He's special." The way Lucifer said 'special' made his skin crawl. He felt like Lucifer had the power to undress people with his eyes and Dean had become the next victim.

"I don't care what nasty 'feelings' you have for him. He is mine, not yours, and I'd appreciate him back now."

"Hmm. No can do. He's agreed to it and I'm allowed. He's quite a useful character." Lucifer had rubbed his short blonde scruff. Dean looked back down to the still form of Sam on the ground.

Dean didn't know how to react. He told Sam to stay away from Lucifer, but he didn't listen, and now he was _somehow _bound with _the devil_. Dean wanted to punch Lucifer; anything to do damage, but of course he could probably pop in and out of existence like Cas.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean growled.

Lucifer held up a finger.

"Correction. Son of a god." He said.

"Dean!" A lower voice warned. Dean whirled around, ready to unleash his anger, but his face softened when he realized the voice was Cas. Cas stood extremely tense and held no expression on his face. Where the hell had he been? Wasn't he just in the motel room with him?

"Took you long enough." Dean snipped at him. "Could you please get this slime away from my brother and explain that he can't take a vessel unless he's been invited."

Cas gave Dean a confused look.

"Lucifer isn't slime. He's a fallen angel."

"I don't care _what_ he is. Just tell him to leave Sam alone." Dean was fierce with his words.

Cas didn't say a word to Lucifer.

"What's the hold up, Cas? Tell him to screw off." Dean waited while Cas stayed silent for another long moment. Finally he spoke in forced syllables.

"There is no reason Lucifer can't use Sam as a vessel. Although it was unwise, Sam has surrendered his body to Lucifer under a contract."

Dean's eyes widened.

"No. No, Sam wouldn't be that stupid. He must have been coerced into it or something. He wouldn't just _let_ the most dangerous ex-angel into his body." Dean shook his head adamantly.

"I'm afraid he has." Cas said.

Lucifer smirked at Dean with the smuggest look.

"Well what kind of contract are we talking here? He gets immortality, he get a free pass to heaven, what is it?"

"Sam has made a deal that you won't die so long as Lucifer is able to use him as a vessel."

Of course, Dean thought. Of course Sam would make a deal with the king of hell because he wanted guaranteed safety of his older brother, who was very used to taking care of himself.

"_Sam_." Dean said, very exasperated. Sam never ceased to amaze him with his idiocy. He looked to Cas with pleading eyes. "I can't get rid of him?" He asked him.

Cas shook his head.

"No, not unless Lucifer chooses to leave."

Dean looked back to Lucifer's arrogant expression. Disgust swelled deep from within him.

"This is my _brother_. You break it, and you sure as hell will buy it." It was the only thing Dean could think of to say to him, though there were many other things he wanted to say. All of his words would be pointless at that point, since he couldn't reverse the contract. Lucifer curled his lip once again.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't want to break up a beautiful family such as this, now would I?" He threw the sarcastic remark and within a long second Lucifer faded away. Sam's arm twitched and he groaned lightly. Dean was sickly torn between wanting to hug him because it was Sam and he was alive, and wanting to slash his throat because it was actually Lucifer in Sam's body. Dean backed up against the wall and bumped into Cas in his attempt to escape the storybook reality that was getting up off the ground before him. Sam reached standing position and turned to look at Dean. He didn't smile. He didn't stand right either. Sam always had a slight curve in his back where his shoulders hunched the tiniest bit. It was a subconscious attempt to reach the height of the average person, rather than fully tower over them, but in that moment he stood to his full height with all the authority in the world. Dean hated it. He hated the confidence he exuded because it wasn't _his _Sam.

"Don't think we're all buddy-buddy suddenly." Dean snarled at him. Sam's unsettling smile didn't falter.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said. Even the inflection in his voice was wrong.

Dean snatched up Cas's coat sleeve and dragged him toward the main building for the motel. Castiel could feel the rage rolling from him, but stumbled for any way he could alleviate his anger. It was most definitely an unfortunate turn of events that Lucifer was now on Earth and had control of Sam, but he didn't understand Dean's emphasis on their genetics. Castiel knew what it was like to have brothers but he held no certain attachment to them, which was perfectly exampled by Lucifer, whom he was quite unnerved around. Castiel saw no difference between Lucifer and Dean within the realm of family; he wouldn't choose to help Lucifer over Dean based on lineage.

"I'm gonna get some food in me and I'll stop hallucinating from starvation." Dean mumbled to himself as he continued to drag Cas. He stepped through the doors and made a weak attempt to appear chipper for the cook as he approached her. She was nearly bursting from her buttoned blouse and her hairnet looked like it had seen better days. She was early to mid-fifties, and had a kind face.

"What can I do ya for, precious?" She asked in a thick southern accent that even Dean hadn't developed in Kansas. Dean reached for the breakfast slip in his pocket but realized he wasn't the one carrying it. A sound of frustration escaped his lips and he held up his pointer finger to the cook.

"One second, please." Dean said, quickly turning back to find Sam, Lucifer, whoever the hell he was. He stopped two steps later to find his nose nearly touching Sam's neck. Dean stood stock still then hastily backed up. With a very strained movements Dean held out his hand.

"I need the slip." He said, a harsh edge biting his voice. Lucifer knew how uncomfortable Dean felt around him, and since he knew Dean wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon he figured he could use him as entertainment.

"Why, what slip Dean?" Sam asked, hardly hiding his amusement.

"You know, the one I gave you, him, earlier. Since I can't have my brother, at least have the decency to afford me breakfast." Dean said, sticking his out hand a little farther.

"Nope, not ringing a bell." He said.

Dean couldn't handle the pressure he was feeling around Lucifer. He grabbed the left side of Sam's button up and pulled it back to grab the slip form where he knew it should be. But it wasn't there. He pulled back the other side with frustration and revealed the breakfast slip. Sam always kept his belongings in his left pocket, but that wasn't true for Satan. Dean snatched the slip and walked back over with a scowl still on his face. He handed the slip to the cheery old cook and attempted to smile. It came out more like a painful grimace.

She took a quick glance at the paper before becoming a whirlwind of plates, pancakes, hash browns, and pie. She handed Dean two plates; one was loaded, one had hardly anything. Of course his brother ordered from the heart healthy-organic-fiber express-low fat, and whatever else, side of the menu. Dean knew the plate _without_ the spinach and egg white sandwich was going to be his. It baffled him that they even offered that. His brother was sucha woman. Even his hair was feminine. Dean stared for a moment at the mound of bacon on his plate, eyeing the cook.

"Ya looked like you could use a dose of something happy." She said with a wink. Dean immediately liked the old cook more by her definition of 'happy'. Dean smiled and nodded once, almost forgetting the satanic being possessing his brother. Almost. Dean nearly handed the other plate to Sam, but stopped himself. Does the devil eat? Would he want this Sam-health-food? He couldn't tell what to do with it so he sat at the table and put the plate opposite of him, as an offering to Sam/Lucifer. Dean tugged lightly at Cas's sleeve to signify that he wanted him to sit next to him. Cas slid in beside Dean slowly, not in any way attempting to speak during the increasingly uncomfortable situation that he was forced into.

They sat in silence, to which Dean was quite grateful, far too long for comfort. Dean had already consumed half his plate of food, which Castiel had noticed his appetite hadn't declined any since the incident, when Dean finally chose to speak.

"So…" He said.

Sam raised his eyebrows.

"So?" He responded. Dean lifted his hand slightly.

"How's the new meat suit?" Dean asked. Sam snorted lightly.

"It'll take a while to get used to but it's even better than I expected." He stroked his hand along Sam's firmly toned arms and abs, and stopped on the area just above his crotch. Dean's face slowly morphed into a mix of disgust and rage.

"You disgusting perv!" He stood from the booth promptly. "You waltz into our lives thinking everything is going to be just kosher, but it's not." Dean had caught the attention of most of the people in the little breakfast area by then. "I can't handle this. I can't handle _you_! It's all just a load of strawberry shortcake!" Dean was furious for a millisecond longer before he realized the words that had come out of his mouth. Some people chuckled; one kid got the giggles. Sam looked amused, but Cas didn't see anything wrong with his word choice and continued watching with a blank expression.

Dean was extremely confused and stood stunned for an instant. His anger had evaporated with the words. The onlookers lost interest within seconds and resumed their lazy morning eating ritual.

"That's not what I really meant to say." He said a little quieter. "I was trying to say it was a load of snicker doodles." Dean said, hardly regaining the fierce resolve he'd had earlier. Dean looked almost scared at the words this time.

"Cinnamon toast crunch, sherbert, strudel cake! God doughnut!" He shouted out.

"Sounds like a bakery in here." Lucifer remarked.

Dean stopped talking altogether.

"Dean, is there a problem?" Asked Cas with a genuine curiosity. He truly didn't know what was going on. Since Castiel was an angel, he didn't find a problem with the entire interaction unfolding before him. He didn't understand why Dean was suddenly more upset, nor could he figure out why Dean was surprised at his own words. Wasn't he saying them on purpose? Dean looked at Cas wide eyed and hesitated before answering.

"Yes, Cas, there is a huge fudging problem." Dean cringed.

"Sounds like your potty mouth has been sugar coated. Pun intended." Sam said. His entire demeanor had been condescending in every way all morning. This was just Lucifer's entertainment.

"This isn't funny." Dean said as he sat back in the booth to avoid any more unwanted attention.

"Oh, I think it is." Sam said, lazily leaning back in his booth.

"What is going on?" Cas asked looking between the both of them.

"Not exactly sure yet. I usually wouldn't bother, but this time I'm curious." Sam said as he grabbed Dean's shoulder. Dean gave him a look to say 'you must be insane', but oddly enough, didn't shrug his hand off. Sam looked in his eyes and Dean could see Sam's warm brown irises but the way they looked at him wasn't familiar. There was a moment where both of them were silent, staring, and then Sam started to chuckle. The chuckle grew into a genuine, loud laugh. Sam's eyes squeezed shut and with it shattered the already transparent image of Dean's brother.

"What? What is it? What did you see?" Dean demanded. Sam ignored him.

"Oh, that is classic. Why didn't I think of that?" Lucifer laughed to himself. His smile probably couldn't get any wider. Dean's face darkened.

"So, you're not going to tell me?" Dean asked with accusing eyes. Sam gave him a sort of funny look, tilting his head.

"Of course not, why would I do that? It ruins the fun if I spoil the mystery. Plus I don't really need to help you, now do I."

Dean swallowed back any retorts he had because he knew it would only result in a string of sugary treats. Dean removed his plate from the table, taking the last dregs of bacon, and tossed it in the dish bin. Thankfully the cook was off her shift. He liked her and didn't want her to think she hadn't pleased him with the pile of 'happy'.

"Cas, come on." Dean called behind him.

Cas jumped out of the booth and followed Dean while Sam stayed sitting with a smirk still tinting his lips. He stalked out of the building, and made a quick bowlegged jog back to the room. When he swiped the card and shoved the door open he found Cas sitting on the nearest bed and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, visibly stepping back. He exhaled forcefully.

"Double mint-" Pause. "Cas, we've been over this. No sudden appearances. Anywhere. It's not normal and it gives me the heebie jeebies."

"I'm sorry. I'll try to keep that means of travel to a minimum." Cas said with apology in his eyes.

Dean grabbed the laptop.

"There's got to be something about this on the internet." Dean muttered under his breath.

He searched the web for anything that was related to not being able to swear. The search was pretty useless considering it only offered religious web pages, random blogs, how-to's on quitting your bad swearing habit, and yahoo asks about when to let you child start swearing. Dean let out a frustrated sigh.

"Is there any way I can assist you Dean?" Cas offered.

"No…no, not really. Not unless you can find the magical website that tells me what this is."

Cas looked between Dean and the laptop.

"I wouldn't be able to use one of those."

Dean's head snapped back slightly.

"You can't be serious." Dean said.

Cas's face was impassive.

"I wouldn't joke about it." He said. Dean's face broke from questioning to serious.

"Of course. You are an angel. Why would you need modern technology?"

"I can think of any reason." Cas responded.

"That was a rhetorical question, Cas."

Silence settled between them.

"Maybe I can teach you how to use a computer sometime."

A while later Dean shut the laptop in frustration.

"Nothing. There's nothing" Dean threw his arms in the air. "Cas, what's wrong with me? Just find this _thing_ that's doing this." Dean grabbed his arm and pleaded to him.

Cas touched his shoulder and closed his eyes, but when he opened them he looked flustered.

"I can't seem to find anything out of place. There's nothing there."

Dean shook his head.

"No, no, no. That can't be true. Old red horns over there thought something was pretty funny."

"I'm sorry, but it's beyond my abilities to detect." He said looking down. Dean impulsively grabbed Cas's hand and placed it over his chest and gave him wide eyes and furrowed brows.

"Dig deeper." Was all he said, but Cas understood. Cas felt a jolt that time as he pushed his way through the wall between Dean's physical plane and his spiritual planes. He had more than the average person and they were thick with meaning and purpose comparatively. Cas sifted through the layers, memories, experiences, and power until he came across an unusual thread. It was delicate and fine, and was a bright color that wasn't in the visible light spectrum. Every other piece of Dean was dark. Cas tugged on the thread but it was resilient like spider thread. He pulled harder but it wouldn't snap. Cas heard a sound come from Dean in his physical plane. Cas inspected the thread further and saw black lines running through it. He'd seen this before but not for eons. Cas pulled back and departed from the depth behind Dean's pretty green eyes. Dean was staring intently at Cas.

"Jesus, Cas. Don't do that again. It hurt." Dean gripped Cas's arm and caught his breath. "So? What's the verdict?" He asked. Cas removed his hand from Dean's chest.

"It's the work of a witch."

Dean's eyebrows shot up.

"A…witch."

"Yes, it's a witch. There's a curse placed on you."

"A curse? Isn't that a little extreme for something like this? Don't curses give you until the next full moon or you croak, unless you can find the blood of a prophet or something insane like that?"

"There does seem to be a darker connotation to curses but they're still spells, just harder to remove." Cas explained.

"What's the difference?" Dean asked.

"A spell can be lifted when an individual is touched by an angel, but since I've touched you already it's apparent this is a curse, which it's necessary to kill the offending witch to remove."

"Okay…so where can someone find a witch these days when they're looking for a little hunting fun?"

"There's no one place to find them. They live in extremely secluded regions and sometimes band together to survive. They were nearly killed off during the witch hunts in the 1800's."

"How could I tell if I've got the right witch?" Dean asked.

"You will just know. It's a bond of sorts. Curses don't manifest themselves from nowhere. That curse is a small piece of the witch, and each one has a personality."

Dean reached for his dad's journal. He flipped through the pages.

"Witch, witch, witch. Warlock, no. Windigo, no…there's nothing about witches in here. How could dad not know about witches? They're in fairy tales for god sakes."

Dean flopped onto a motel bed and stared at the ceiling.

"I suppose we should figure out how to find this witch." Dean said after a while.

"Yes, I suppose you should, but who says you'll find her." A voice called from the back of the room. Dean sat up and turned around quick. It was Sam, but not really. It was only his voice that was Sam. The inflection was entirely wrong and unrecognizable, and Dean still had a hard time adjusting to it.

"You another one who makes a habit of zapping places?" Dean asked, still settling his nerves.

"It's a great way to get around." Sam said.

"I thought I told you to beat it." Dean bit out.

"But I have specific orders to never let you die. Can't let my Sammy down, now can I?" Lucifer sarcastically responded.

"_Don't_ call him Sammy. He's not your brother and he's certainly not your 'pal'. Got it?" Dean said, holding back anger.

"Explicitly."

Dean turned back to Cas.

"I've never dealt with a witch before. Are you gonna help me hunt her down?" He asked.

Cas gave a shallow nod. Castiel had been avoiding looking at Sam all day because he feared Lucifer and he could see his giant wings. He was sure that if Dean could see them too he wouldn't be so petulant with Lucifer. It was a strange concept to Castiel to think that humans couldn't see an angel's true form. He'd hardly spent any time around them and only had the need to hold a conversation with few. Dean was an exception. Although after seeing his past, it seemed he had always been the exception. His father would get mad if they went on a hunt alone, but Dean hadn't gotten reprimanded like Sam had. Dean's grades were virtually nonexistent and while any other parent would be mortified, Dean's father was proud of him. His life was based on killing the supernatural which was unheard of for a man of letters.

"I think I know just the person to help us too." Dean said, grabbing his belongings and shoving his way through the door to the car.

Lying under a pile of crumpled newspapers, takeout containers, and empty beer bottles was Bobby, passed out from a long night of hunting and a drinking session to relax. Seven loud knocks came from outside his door and he jumped up wielding a stake, muttering about sons of bitches having no manners. He took a deep breath.

"Who is it?" He called out.

"That hot blonde from the pizza palace." Dean said; deadpan, as usual.

"Well in that case, come right in sweet cheeks." Bobby yelled through the door as he lowered his weapon with a huff and a shake of his head. He adjusted his grungy hat that seemed to have become a permanent fixture on his head. The door opened wide and Dean barged right in, leaving no time for a change of mind. This was his second home. Two other men followed Dean into the shady house. There was Sam and… Bobby didn't have the slightest idea who the other was.

"You boys find a new gal pal or somethin?" Bobby asked waving the stake in Castiel's direction.

Dean looked back to Cas.

"No, he's...," Dean considered telling Bobby he was an angel, "You know what, this is Cas." Dean said as he motioned to the scruffy man in a tan trench coat. Cas offered his hand for a handshake because that was what he'd learned was a proper greeting. Bobby ignored the outstretched hand.

"What's wrong with 'im?" Bobby asked, eyeing him up. Dean was slightly taken aback.

"Uh, nothing…not exactly. Why?"

Bobby stared at Cas's tie.

"The man can't dress 'imself right."

Castiel dropped his hand and looked down at his tie, noticing the unkempt man's stare, and tugged it slightly.

"We haven't taught him which type of fork is for each course yet either." Dean said sarcastically. "I don't think you can be one to talk, Bobby." Dean commented, gesturing to the two day old attire he stood in. Bobby rolled his eyes at the comment.

"Alright, so what'd ya two idjits do this time?" Bobby asked.

"What makes you think we did something?" Dean asked innocently; the events of the past two days running through his mind.

"Because you don't come barging in here unless ya need my help. Would it kill ya to drop by for a visit every once in a while?" His question was left hanging and his rough voice echoed around the house. Dean waited for a moment before blurting out really quick, and pointed to Cas and Sam.

"Cassy here is an angel. Say hi to Lucifer. Oh, by the way, can you tell me how to track down a witch?" Dean just stared at Bobby kind of wide eyed, not sure what to expect.

Bobby blinked real slow and exhaled in a sigh.

"You brought angels into my house? I thought we had a no demon policy, which I didn't think angels existed so I'm pretty sure it goes under that." Bobby said, not quite yelling, but definitely reprimanding.

"Did you expect me to leave him outside?" Dean asked, pointing to Sam. Bobby eyed him up. The little smirked that crept onto Sam's face made Bobby uneasy.

"Yes. No. I don't know. How the hell d'ya manage to let Lucifer possess Sam?" He asked, wild eyed and almost panicking since remembering that bit of information.

"Typical Sam was trying to be a hero. He made a contract that as long as my… butt stays here on Earth, then Lucifer can play puppet master." Dean said with disdain.

Bobby gave a wide eyed stare; one eye twitched.

"So 's long as your ass isn't grass, Lucifer is okay to stay?" He asked

"That would be the right answer." Dean said as his gaze flicked to Sam for a short second.

"Aw Sammy. You idjit." Bobby said with great exasperation.

"That seems to be the reoccurring theme." Dean said.

There was a moment of silence.

"So are you feeling…all right?" Bobby asked Dean.

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Not exactly when my brother is Satan." He replied.

"No, that's not what I meant. It's that I haven't heard a cuss outta ya since ya walked in."

Dean gave a small chuckle and scratched a spot on the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah, about that. I can't."

Sam laughed in the background, leaning against Bobby's kitchen counter. Bobby stared at Dean silently from under the bill of his hat.

"You can't swear?" Bobby finally asked.

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, that's why we need your help. I've got a curse of some sort and I need to find the witch who did it."

"And you think I know how to?" Bobby asked.

"Well I guess I kinda hoped." Dean said, slightly discouraged.

"Why don't you have angel-boy take you to her?"

Castiel was aware that he had been brought into the conversation.

"I don't know who the witch is and where she lives." Castiel informed him.

"And…him?" Bobby asked, pointing to Sam.

"He isn't exactly a cooperative one." Dean replied.

"Dean, I really don't know much about witches. There might be a book around here that mentions them, but personally I've never dealt with one."

Dean and Cas inspected the books thrown around his dingy house. They were shoved in corners and lying above shelves with no real home for any of them.

"Cas, you take the left half of the house, I'll take right." Dean ordered and stalked his way around, picking up any dusty book he could find.

"What do I do?" Sam asked Dean without genuinely wanting to help.

"You just sit tight, red horns."

Dean went through his pile of book and weeded out the ones that weren't about the paranormal. He read the books, checking indexes, flipping pages, but there was nothing he could find about witches. The books he had were more about demons and, go figure, Lucifer. Bobby had started his own little collection of books to look through.

"Cas, have you found anything yet?" Dean called across the house.

"Yes." Cas's deep voice called back.

"Really? What?" Dean asked as he and Bobby got up from their book nests to go to Cas. Cas was sitting with a very thick book in his lap.

"Lots of numbers, and how to replace an exhaust system; whatever that is." Cas said.

Dean reached down and lifted the cover of the book.

"Cas, this is a repair manual. You're never going to find information on witches in here." Dean said exasperated, tossing the book aside and pulling out any books like that one from his pile. A title caught his eye.

Exorcisms, Traps, and Tracking

Dean looked over to Bobby.

"This might be one."

He looked for a chapter index and ran his finger along the page. His finger stopped and he quickly flipped to a page. Dean mouthed the words on the page but didn't say anything for a long time. Eventually Lucifer lost his patience.

"Are you just gonna move your lips all day?"

Dean shot Sam a dirty look and continued to look around the pages. After a couple more moments Dean stabbed his finger at the page.

"Here! It says to find a witch you will need a shard of quartz, an ounce of holy water, a drop of peppermint extract, dandelion root, and a picture of the afflicted." Dean looked up. "I guess that would be me."

"Great, but where do we find all these things?" Bobby asked.

Dean immediately turned to Cas and gave him a pointed look.

"What?" Cas asked, glancing between Dean and Bobby innocently.

Castiel crawled through the dark and narrow aisles of the salts and crystal shop, searching for quartz. He wasn't particularly sure how they were going to kill the witch, but he was confident Dean Winchester could do it. He didn't have the resolve to admit to Dean that he had stopped following the higher ups orders. Castiel had already killed two of his brothers, and was afraid if he admitted that to Dean he would consider him a threat. Castiel knew there was some larger scheme that he was not aware of and felt that Dean and Sam were key parts of it. He didn't want to leave Dean vulnerable, although he knew Lucifer was under contract, because both Winchesters were in such high demand in heaven and angels became vultures when they wanted something.

Castiel daintily grabbed a bottle of peppermint oil, stuffing it in his coat pocket and headed to the front of the shop. Cobwebs hung in the ceiling corners where it was unreachable. Castiel took a large chunk of quartz that resided on the cashiers counter next to a bottle of oily salts and disappeared. His next item was a dandelion root. He appeared in a field, knowing there would be a dandelion somewhere around there. He found one that looked suitable and tugged on it. The flower popped off without any root attached. Castiel inspected it then moved to another. Yet again he was only successful in beheading the flower. He lost patience and Castiel used his powers to pull an entire dandelion out of the ground unharmed. He stuffed the entire flower in his tan trench coat pocket.

Dean dug through his black bag and pulled out a large bottle of holy water. He held up the bottle.

"An ounce…" He said then looked to Bobby through the water. "You got a measuring cup?" He asked.

Bobby shook his head.

"You think I cook?" He asked incredulously.

Dean slightly rolled his eyes.

"Of course not. Where are we going to find a measuring cup?" Dean asked.

Bobby looked around and for a moment he froze.

"Hold on a moment." He said, lifting a finger as he ran about as much as an old hick _could_ run, which was a slow jog.

Bobby returned with a small black plastic cup and held it out to Dean. Dean took one look at it and refused.

"Bobby that's for oil. It'll screw with the recipe if it gets in there."

Bobby looked at then grabbed a dirty cloth from nearby. He wiped aggressively at the sticky oil until he got it as clean as he could and handed it to Dean.

"Now shut up and use it. It's all we've got." Bobby ordered.

Dean sighed and grabbed the cup from Bobby. He set it on the table and poured out the crystal clear liquid until it reached the one ounce point. Dean pulled the bowl they grabbed a little closer and dumped the entire contents of the cup in it.

Rain started outside. It was a light patter with just enough vibration to be heard through the ceiling.

Sam had been sulking in the worn chair behind Dean the entire time. No, sulking wasn't the right word. It was more a pleased silence. He stared at his nails as if they mattered to him and held the becoming-ever-familiar smirk on his face. Both Dean and Bobby ignored his large presence.

"Ok. So now we need a picture of me." Dean said. "You do have a camera don't you?" He asked.

"Course I do. Don't everyone?" Bobby asked.

He reached around a pile of bottles and tugged on a desk drawer. It opened and inside there was an old Polaroid camera.

"Bobby sometimes it's great that you never get with the times." Dean said as he reached to take the camera from Bobby but he waved him off.

"Let me do it." Bobby said and lifted the camera to his face. "Say cheese."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm not gonna say cheese. That's for the sticky little squirts when they get school pictures."

"Say cheese, Dean." Bobby demanded.

"Fine." Dean looked to see if Cas was around and opened his mouth wide and for one instant he uttered the word. "Cheese." Then his face fell back to its usual grimace as the light flashed.

The picture slid out of the camera and Bobby took it out, waving it about to make the film develop faster. He looked at it and made a disapproving sound.

"You aren't smiling. You weren't saying cheese."

Dean looked unconvinced.

"Of course I did, Bobby. You watched me do it."

Bobby turned the picture around and sure enough the unsmiling weary Dean stared back at him.

"So? The picture was a little late."

"We need to take the picture again." Bobby said with a serious tone.

"No, no I'm not taking another picture for you, Bobby." Dean pointed his finger at him with resolve.

"Dean, it's not right unless you're saying cheese. Just do it."

Sam laughed behind Dean. Dean shot him a glare. He sighed but agreed.

"Fine, just take it."

Once again Dean smiled wide in a fake expression and Bobby snapped the shot as the word escaped his lips, perfectly capturing that moment in time. The picture once again fell from the slot and Bobby developed it. This time he grunted in a sound of approval. After setting the picture beside the bowl Bobby reached to refer back to the book.

"Helloooo brother." Sam said and Dean reacted to him, turning to look back. Sam wasn't looking at him though. Instead he was staring at the door. Dean and Bobby's eyes flicked from the door to Sam.

"I'm sorry. I don't follow." Dean said, confused.

Sam pointed to the door.

"Open it."

Bobby skeptically walked to the door and cracked it open.

"Jesus. Would ya knock or somethin? It's creepy standin outside the door. Get outta the rain."

Bobby yanked the creaky door open and made way for Cas to walk through. Cas dragged his wet coat into the house. Dean was taken aback.

"Cas, why didn't you come inside?" Dean asked.

Castiel blinked at him.

"I didn't want to startle you. You were quite clear that my means of transportation made you uncomfortable."

Dean softened.

"It doesn't mean you need to stand out in the rain, Cas. I just don't want you gone one second and there the next. It's alright to walk up to me."

Castiel dripped on the floor and pulled out the ingredients.

"These are the items you requested." He said, setting them on the table next to the bowl of holy water with a clink.

"Coolio. Let's do this." Dean said, rubbing his hands together. Dean pulled the book closer to him and pointed his finger at the page, following the instructions. He grabbed the bottle of peppermint and dripped exactly one drop in the holy water. Dean glanced at the page again and picked up the dandelion. He gave it a peculiar look before snapping the roots off and crushing them on the table with another book until it made a paste. He scraped the resulting root goo into the bowl and stirred it as best he could. The last steps were a little unusual.

"Looks like smiley gets to blaze up." Dean said.

Taking a lighter he always kept in his pocket, Dean flicked it and touched it to the delicate photo of himself. The colors lit up immediately and it quickly started to fall to ash.

"Is that really necessary?" Bobby asked, watching the photo.

"Yep. It says to right here." Dean said, pointing to the page.

"Alright." Bobby said grudgingly.

He was hoping to keep a picture of the boys since they didn't allow photos. Dean performed the last step. He held the shard of crystal in his hand and waved an open flame under it. Nothing happened but the glinting of fire under the rock but after holding it there for a while the crystal began to melt. It dripped down and fell into the mixture, releasing a burst of energy as it swirled and formed an image. Little rivulets of water coursed across the surface and a faint appearance of a woman walking around her house materialized. Her face wasn't visible, but all that really was distinguishable was a large cauldron.

"Seriously? Little Miss Broomstick has an actual cauldron?" Dean asked. "Well how do you kill her?"

"You're gonna need to burn a lock of her hair." Bobby said after flipping through pages.

Nobody noticed at first when Cas reached out to touch an invisible object. After a couple second Dean caught sight of his outstretched hand.

"Cas? Cas, what are you doing?" Dean asked him.

"It seems to be…leading me." Cas said, fingers curling around the invisible intruder.

"D' ya think it'll take 'em to the witch?" Bobby asked Cas.

"I'm fairly certain this is what will help us track the witch. I've never actually taken the time to investigate people afflicted with curses. My brothers do simple tasks more than me." Cas explained.

"Looks like we've found your lead." Bobby announced

Dean found himself holed up in yet another motel. Just once he would appreciate his own money so he could afford something nicer, like the hotel Ramada down the street. Unfortunately his occupation had made the choice for him; to live off credit card scams and stay in dodgy motel rooms. Cameras were his enemy, and Sam had jumped in this lonely boat with him years ago when Dad went missing. Despite how much crap Dean gave Sam on a daily bases he was grateful for the company and support. Dean was sure he would have been wasted by a demon or some spirit by then if Sam hadn't been there to save his hide. It made it that much harder to think that Sammy was being held hostage in his own mind. Dean sighed and rolled over in his bed. Not only was Cas lying in the other bed still awake, but Sam was sitting in the only chair in the room; staring.

"There's much better things you could be doing. Watching us is really freakin creepy." Dean broke the dark silence.

"What would you rather I be doing?" Sam asked.

Dean sucked in a big breath.

"Well I hear baseball is America's _other_ favorite pastime."

Satan was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke.

"You know, I can see his deepest thoughts. Every secret, every emotion that Sammy worked so hard to hide is all exposed. I know what he thinks of you, and definitely what he thinks of your dad."

Dean flinched at the comment. He pointed to the bed beside him.

"For the last time it's Sam. Now I'm gonna sleep and dream I'm in a place where no one's rooting around in my brothers head, irritating me, cursing me, or trying to kill me."

With those words Dean nodded his head and laid down on the too soft pillows that threatened to suffocate him as they enveloped his face. Sleep came difficultly for him. He thought about the tiring events of the day. The drive had been torturous. No volume level could drown out the tension in the car, and they nearly ran out of gas, because out there the gas stations were farther and fewer between than anywhere Dean had driven. Once they arrived at the motel no one spoke and Dean just couldn't handle that. He had hopped in his baby and drove her to get some food. Food was his comfort and would most likely be his sole reason for living if it wasn't for the hordes evil that lurked around every corner Sam and Dean turned.

When he arrived at the small bar and grill down the street Dean had been subjected to a particular gay man trying to coax him back to his apartment which Dean was not going to have any part of. He tried to turn the night around with a female companion, but was met with rejection from the beautiful and even easy women that frequented the place. Dean couldn't figure out what the problem was. Usually Dean had all the right words and knew just how to say them to make girls fall at his feet, or rather into his bed. Sitting alone eating his steak and fries, Dean had wished Cas could be there. He was becoming increasingly fond of the angel and was accustomed to trying to ignore his slip up the day before. As if Cas knew what Dean wanted, the tan trench coat and blue tie combination walked through the door and sat beside him. Dean had itched to make conversation but they hardly reached small talk with an occasional comment or one word. It was okay to Dean. Cas hadn't minded either. They both took solace in the others calm company and words didn't really need to be spoken. Sleep took hold without warning.

Lucifer watched Dean sleep. He didn't have much of anything better to do and was still adapting to Sam's body. He sat there admiring the subtle curves of muscle in places most people wouldn't notice, but Lucifer did because the sensation was entirely new to him. His hands were massive compared to other vessels and his height was quite substantial, although being an angel made it less impressive to him. Dean rolled in his sleep and made a soft noise of discontent. Something deep within Lucifer tugged at him; something that felt like familiarity. It was followed by a thought that was not his own. _Dean, just listen to me_. Lucifer twitched at the thought and tried to suppress Sam and his words, but he was more unruly than even the most difficult of vessels. There's always a point that a vessel wants to back out but a deal is a deal.

Before Dean knew it he was waking up to burning retinas and the smell of something… mouthwatering.

"What the…?"

Dean covered his eyes with his hand, but the feeble attempt proved pointless with the escaping rays of sunlight still singeing his eyes. He looked around the room and wondered why his head didn't feel so great. He hadn't been drinking last night, had he? Cas was missing from the room and a surge of pain shot through his head, like his brain decided to self-combust. He cradled his head in his hands.

"The lack of curse words taking a toll?" Sam asked.

"Leave me alone." Dean groaned.

"I was just leaving anyway." Sam said, as he grabbed the door handle.

Dean looked from Sam to the window.

"Did you do this?" Dean asked, pointing to the shades drawn back.

Sam didn't respond but the smirk on his face answered him as Sam shut the door behind him.

Sam fought with every fiber of his being to stop Lucifer, but it made him feel weak just being so close to him. Lucifer emanated power and kept Sam in a little corner within his mind. The rest was being filled with the fire, chaos, stars, and ice that made up the fallen angel. If Sam's mind actually occupied a physical body his voice would have been hoarse to the point breathing would be painful, his fists bloody and broken, and he would be so tired that movement would be virtually impossible. But his mind wasn't a physical thing and Sam was forced to watch the world in silent, inexistent pain. So many times Sam struggled to close his eyes but it was impossible. He wanted to sew his mouth shut so he would never say another hurtful thing to Dean, but he couldn't. He was stuck; chained to the walls of his conscience and forced to obey. It tore him apart to know Dean couldn't see him, he only saw Lucifer. He could see what Lucifer was thinking and was driven near insanity trying to warn Dean about the danger, about the larger plan. The only solace he took was in knowing Dean wouldn't be killed.

"Where's that stupid angel?" Dean groaned to himself.

He wanted to throw his head back down on the pillow but the smell of food drifted around his nose and pulled his appetite from the depths of sleep. When the tiger gets poked he's bound to be angry, and the roiling growls were telling Dean that's exactly what happened. He threw back the sheets with little care compared to what laid before him to eat. There was a still steaming plate of breakfast waiting for him; with a pie. Dean thanked the breakfast gods. He was itching to leave right away but it made it kind of difficult when his GPS and Satan Brother were missing, so he contented himself with eating breakfast in peace unlike the day previous. Dean figured that eventually they would return.

Castiel wiped the blood from his hands and looked down at the black wings imprinted in the ground. He wasn't one to like disobeying orders and for Castiel it was becoming an increasingly often occurrence. He'd killed another. Another brother of his who would listen to neither reason nor desperation, and had to be exterminated because of it. Castiel hoped this was all worth it.

Cas walked through the door to the motel room tentatively, being careful to not surprise Dean this time. Cas got about halfway to where he was sitting with the laptop when Dean caught sight of him and slammed the laptop shut. It slipped and fell to the floor still slightly open and Dean quickly snatched it up, knocking over the empty tray that held the scrumptious breakfast. After finally restoring order and picking up the trash Dean gave Cas a sheepish smile. In his own effort to conceal he forgot to ask where Cas had been, thankfully.

"You came back." Dean said breathlessly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I…upset you again." Cas said.

He'd tried so hard to please Dean, but it just didn't seem to be working. He was used to disappointing his brothers or even god, but it hurt when he disappointed Dean.

"No no no no. That, that wasn't you…it was me." Dean said, holding up his hand to try to placate the angel. "Seriously it's not your fault."

He stood from the chair and set the laptop on the table.

"Where's Lucifer?" Cas asked.

Dean thought for a moment.

"That's a good question. I thought he would've come back by now."

"Knock knock." A voice came from the still open doorway.

"You can come in you know." Dean said, his mood already on the decline.

"Never know with you two. Better to be safe than sorry."

Dean's bad attitude was cut in by a sudden worry that Lucifer knew what had happened. He couldn't have known, unless Sam… no Sam didn't know either, thank god. The only possibility is that he either learned it from Cas or Dean.

Dean scowled to try to put on a show and make it look as though he wasn't feeling worlds of guilt.

Thankfully this car ride wasn't as bad as the last because Cas was shotgun. Dean slipped in his driving mode and didn't come out the entire way. Most of the ride was the occasional quip from Satan or direction from Cas as he told Dean to turn right or left. Dean decided to stop for lunch. It was a quick in and out that yielded four bacon cheeseburgers and a couple sodas.

"Don't you ever stop eating?" Sam asked.

"Never. Gotta keep up this great physique." Dean responded.

Dean reached back to offer a cheeseburger to Sam, but he waved him off.

"I don't eat." He said.

Dean was confused but withdrew the cheeseburger.

"Cas eats though." Dean said.

"That's because he wants to. I've found no reason to surrender myself to human necessities." Sam said.

Dean turned to give Cas a weird look.

"Seriously?" Dean asked Cas.

Cas looked a little sheepish.

"It's just the bacon cheeseburgers. I sort of have a…squishy spot for them. I think that's how it's said."

Dean completely lost it, laughing.

"Did you mean soft spot?" He asked whilst wiping a tear that formed in his eye.

"Yes, that's what I meant."

12

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Dean had taken the car as far as he could and pulled it off the road just enough that another car could get past, but he doubted anybody was going to be out there anytime soon. It was the complete booneys. Some place in Montana. The road was tiny, just enough for two cars to inch by, and made of gravel. Most of the road was lined by trees but in that particular spot there was a hill that peeked out with field covering it instead.

"That way." Cas said and pointed to the hill.

Sam opened the door and got out, but Dean wasn't too keen on the idea of him tagging along. He wanted some alone time because Cas was enjoyable to be around, and Satan was not.

"Hey there, Red Horns. You don't need to come along. It's a nice day and you can go...," Dean looked in a random direction, "that way." He said, as he pointed toward the woods opposite of them.

"I hope you're aware it's only against the contract to let you die. Any other nonfatal injury is game." Sam said.

Dean started walking in the direction Cas lead him, and Sam followed behind the bowlegged man. Dean had noticed that Cas shaved recently and while he followed him through the short line of trees he wondered where and when he could have done that. Dean thought the excess facial hair made him kind of…cute, and then reprimanded himself for the thought.

Dead grass decorated the field but the top of the hill was oddly green. Dean stopped on top of it and looked between the two spots.

"Oh, that's freakin weird." Dean said.

When they continued to walk down the other side of the hill it was still green. It never stopped being green as far as they could see. Even the trees they walked through looked healthier.

"This witch must have one…heck of a green thumb." Dean commented.

"They radiate energy and the plants around them feed off it for miles." Cas informed him.

Dean groaned loudly.

"Miles? Just great."

Eventually something caught Dean's eye.

"Hey, do you see that?" Dean asked, stopping Cas with the back of his hand on his chest.

Smoke billowed lightly from behind the curve of the hill they stood behind. "I bet it's a cute little cottage with a fireplace."

Dean smiled cutely and elbowed Cas. Cas just looked at him strangely, and Dean's smile fell back into his usual serious demeanor. He cleared his throat.

"Alright. Continuing on." He said and walked up the hill as manly as possible, disappearing on the other side.

Cas quickly followed and Sam lazily trudged after them. On the other side of the hill stood Dean, just staring. When he heard Cas approach him he nodded toward the cottage and spoke.

"Now I can see why I've got a serious case of sweet tooth."

When Sam rounded the hilltop he couldn't help but let out a laugh. It wouldn't have bothered Dean on any other occasion except although this sounded like Sam's good natured laugh, it wasn't.

It was a cottage all right. It sat in a small valley; and it was made of candy. There sat a barn near it, although that wasn't made of the same sugary substances as the cottage.

"I gonna check out the barn." Dean announced and moved stealthily toward the back of the barn, pulling out a gun. He crouched near the back and peeked into the window and saw nothing out of the ordinary except for a stall that had a wood top on it. There were no animals inside so he decided it would be safe to check it out. Dean peered around the corner to look for Cas or Sam, but both of them had disappeared.

"Cas!" Dean whispered loudly, hoping he could bring Cas to him.

He looked all around and behind him but there was no sign of the celestial being.

"Doughnut, Cas." He sighed.

"That wasn't a fight you were going to win. You know what you've been doing is wrong, Castiel, and you will pay dearly for it. You're lucky I've been told to leave you alive." Michael stood feet from where Castiel was pinned to a chair, and gave orders in Enochian to the angels beside Castiel. They each grabbed a wing and slowly tore it from his body. Castiel forced himself to not yell out but the agony left him grunting in torturous gasps. When his wings were severed Castiel kneeled on the ground and panted out the few words he could.

"You don't…*pant* understand. You're *pant* wrong… and Dean…needs me."

"You aren't going to spend any more time protecting him because you're going somewhere a little colder." And with his last words he snapped his fingers and Castiel disappeared.

Dean rounded the corner to the barn opening and squeezed through the door. He stepped over to the covered stall and looked at the bars that lined the bottom half of the door to it. Fingers peeked out of hay from behind the bars and Dean slowly, cautiously approached it, preparing himself for a dead body. He shifted over slightly with his gun raised at the individual behind the bars and saw a little boy. His eyes were closed and he slumped against the side of the stall. He was blonde and quite chubby. His skin was grubby with hay dust crusting his hair. The dark green coat he wore was embroidered with a large H.

"Hey." Dean said softly.

The boy didn't respond. Dean whistled loudly as if calling a dog. The blonde boy still didn't respond.

"Aw man. We've actually got a stiff on our hands here."

He attempted to wake the boy once more by banging along the posts with the butt of his gun. The boy woke with a start, but didn't look scared; that is until he saw Dean.

"Where's my sister?" He asked, extremely frightened and crawling backward to the corner of the stall. He saw the gun and freaked out even more.

"Would you just calm down for a moment. Look…," Dean didn't know what to call him so he looked at the coat. "Look, H, I'm not here to hurt you. Do you know where your sister would be?" Dean asked in the lightest tone he could use.

H boy pointed to the house of sweets.

"Sh-she would be in there." He shook out.

"Alright, you just hang tight until I can come get you out."

Dean stood from his crouching position and took one step before he stopped. A small girl with blonde hair stood in the doorway. She resembled the boy in the cage but she was tiny and looked starved. She shook and shivered.

"Hey there uh, little girl. Is this your brother?" Dean pointed to the boy behind him.

"Help me mister. There's a bad woman. She's keeping us here." Her small and high voice sounded pitiful to Dean and he wanted to help her. Forget himself, there were children being kept here. _Wait a second_. Though Dean. There are two children and a candy house. Isn't this like a story he'd heard when he was a kid? Dean faintly remembered reading a story similar to Sam when he was afraid and dad was gone. _Hanzel and Gretel_. The name of the fairy tale came Dean. It all makes sense. The H on the boys coat reinforced Dean's theory.

"Where is she? Take me to her." He told the girl, presumably Gretel.

Dean subconsciously bent over her in a protective manner as he followed her out of the barn and toward the house. The roof resembled a pie and pillars of giant suckers. Chocolate lined the windows as shutters and the entire outside of the house was made of graham cracker. Decorations of gum drops and licorice speckled the windows and walls. Every color of the rainbow was on this house. It looked positively appetizing and it became clear how children could be attracted to it. It looked pristine. None of the chocolate had melted and not a spot of dirt covered it. Dean noticed a completely lack of ants. Cas_ had_ mentioned some magic and energy.

"She must have one heck of an exterminator." Dean muttered to himself. The girl led him through the back door. It had a marshmallow handle. It squished beneath his fingertips as he went through the door and he couldn't help but lick the powder off his fingers. It was the exact cornstarch that covered marshmallows. This stuff was real. Dean held the girl back in the door way and approached the closed door across the room. There was a kitchen just on the left side of him and a cauldron just like the one he'd saw the day before. Dean walked cautiously up to the door and opened it swiftly so he could raise his arm and his weapon. On a bed of marshmallow sat the exact girl he had just seen. She was curled up around her legs and sullenly sitting, staring at the floor. The noise scared her and she jumped up whimpering.

"What the...?"

Dean stared with his gun pointed at the little girl's chest then whipped around to find the girl he left at the door. A tall young blonde woman who looked to be thirty stood behind him and lashed out, sending the gun far away from Dean. She dug her nails into his wrists and revealed unnaturally sharp teeth as she threw him into a chair with a great force. The chair creaked as he slammed into the candy cane seat. With a flick of her fingers licorice snapped painfully around Dean's wrists and pulled tight. Dean grunted as the ropes of licorice wrapped across his chest and dug into his ribs. His head had hit against the chair pretty hard and that coupled with his adrenaline caused Dean's vision to blur. He struggled but at that point it was only for a macho show, because it was quite clear he wasn't going to escape. Dean just wanted to show her he was a fighter. She reached back and closed the door.

"Did you really think you could take me down alone?"

She had biting attitude and said it as if it insulted her that Dean came solo. Dean gave her a once over. She was beautiful and in Dean's eyes she was pretty hot; for a witch.

"No, but there's other things I could do to you alone." Dean said, giving her the same perverse smile he gave to women at the bar.

She smiled back at him, but it was a devious, calculated one.

"You think you need to worry about what you're going to do to me, but what you should really be concerned about is what I'm going to do to _you_."

She pointed to him with her long manicured fingernail, pouting her lips, and spoke in a condescending tone, like he was a dog or something. Who did she think she was?

"Wouldn't guarantee you're gonna get what you want." Dean said, deepening his voice like he always did when faced with danger.

"You've got a lot of confidence. That ego could be taken down a peg for my taste."

She licked her finger and laid her hand on Dean's face. She turned her palm and dug her nails deep into his cheek, scratching along it. Dean gritted his teeth against the pain and grunted.

"Son of a _biscuit_!" He shouted.

"Ah. I see that little curse is still working well."

Her lip curled up and her beauty became marred by the small action.

"Why'd you do it?" Dean asked.

The witch got up from leaning over him and walked behind his chair.

"I don't keep these strikingly good looks by just sitting here. Youth is hard to come by when you're 600 years old."

She rested her nice, pale hands on the posts of the chair beside Dean's head.

"So you're eating kids?" Dean asked.

She laughed, throwing her head back.

"No, silly. That would be crude."

She removed her hands and stood behind him, leaving a palm on the peppermint seat backing. Dean raised his eyebrows and waited. When there was no response he twitched his head.

"Explain it to me then."

"I suck the life source right out of them."

Dean tilted his head.

"Nice to know what to look forward to." He commented sarcastically.

"The plumper the better." She added.

Even in Dean's state he took offense to that.

"Hey, I have a great shape. Don't let those bacon cheeseburgers fool you."

She smiled a crooked one.

"Of course you do." She commented in her condescending way.

"So why would you choose me? I've probably got the weakest life source out of anyone."

"I need a pure life source and yours is strong and pure, except for that nasty mouth you've got on you. Just a quick little," she flicked her nail across his lips, "…fix and it's all better now. I do love my sweets."

"I noticed." Dean grumbled. "But it can't be possible that I'm pure. I'm surrounded by the filth of the earth on a daily basis. I went to Hell and back. There's no way."

She wiggled her finger at him.

"You're wrong. Aren't you that little hero that kills my brethren? It didn't occur to you that killing impure creatures would make _you_ pure?" She sort of chuckled to herself and crouched down near Dean's knee. "Lucky for me because now you haven't protected yourself nearly as well as you could."

She stood and turned to get something and froze with instilled fear reflecting in her eyes. She made a move to back up but Sam held a hand to stop her.

"I'm not here for you, Katraz. I'm just here to make sure Hero-man here doesn't end up in my neck of the woods."

He sat on the counter of blue jolly rancher and waited. She did nothing.

"Don't mind me. I'm not here."

Sam waved her off and still sat on the counter. Dean took the opportunity to escape but the licorice held him down fast and he only succeeded in struggled grunting.

"Try all you want you're not getting out."

Katraz whipped her head around and gave him a sharp toothed smile. She fetched the bowl she was going for earlier and approached Dean. She got really close and he could feel her breathing. _Definitely not a turn on_. Dean thought. She snatched up his hand.

"You sure got over your performance anxiety quick." Dean quipped.

Her face inched closer to his wrist, her blonde hair falling around her face in rivulets.

"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing."

Katraz bit down and sucked at his wrist a bit, licking the fresh wound. Dean tried to pull back but it was futile. Surprisingly she wasn't lying. His wrist numbed into a comfortable nothing. Dean could feel the liquid flowing from the wound but it wasn't unpleasant. Although the experience wasn't disagreeable Dean's attitude was. It disgusted him. The witch removed her lips and held the bowl under Dean's dripping blood. Dean was forced to watch the red liquid seep from his veins. Dean pleaded with his eyes to Sam who was watching intently.

"Well aren't you going to stop her?"

Sam acted surprised and pointed to himself.

"Me?" He asked.

"No. I meant the salt shaker behind you. Of course you. You can't just let her kill me." Dean exclaimed.

"She's not going to kill you. Stealing your life force just weakens and ages you. Now what was that you said about me going…," Sam mock looked around, "that way? Suddenly you care if I'm here or not?"

Dean bit back more words that would get him into trouble. Katraz touched her finger to Dean's still freely bleeding wound and it stopped. She took her bowl and elegantly walked over to the cauldron in the center of the room with hot coals under it. She poured the blood into the black pot and it hissed and sizzled. Katraz breathed in the metallic silver smoke that rose, and took a handful of grey powder that sat beside her. She threw it in the cauldron and the smoke changed. It literally had a life of its own and flew around the room. Sam looked way too happy about it. The smoke swirled around Dean and he could feel himself becoming drowsy. Katraz walked over to the swirling mass and opened her mouth wide, sucking in the smoke, which Dean was beginning to suspect wasn't even smoke at all. Dean moaned as he felt his life being sucked out of his marrow. It all happened in such a confusing way, but in the middle of it Dean silently screamed out for Cas. Why had he abandoned him when he needed him most? Dean felt some strength return, inhuman, and he strained against his bindings, rocking the chair and making it tip against the floor. The licorice loosened a bit and Dean, in his haze, worked away at it until he could slip his hand through and grab the blade he kept in his sock. He lunged in just enough time to seize a handful of Katraz's hair and swipe the blade across her silky blond hair. She shrieked and lashed out with her razor nails, but Dean ducked and ran toward the burning coals in the center of the room. She grabbed his ankle and dug in, but Dean clutched at the ground and tossed the lock of hair toward the coals, hoping it would make it through all the chaos. Strands fell near the open flames and curled instantly, sizzling as they burned to a crisp. Some laid on the edge of the coals without burning but one by one they succumbed to the scorching heat and with each strand Katraz jerked in another direction, falling to the ground with ash drifting off of her. Eventually all the strands were gone and all that was left was a gray heap of dust inside clothes that previously fit along the perfect curves of an immortal being. There was an odd noise that distracted Dean. He finally came to after staring at her remains lying on the Life Saver floor. Sam was clapping slowly.

"What, is this just all a game to you? It's all just for your personal entertainment?" Dean asked with a venomous edge in his voice.

"You've done it. It's like watching a soap opera." He laughed and climbed down from the counter. "I really thought she had you there. You had me going, but the angel, now that was an unexpected twist." Sam shook his finger like a parent would to reprimand a child, although it was good natured.

"Damn shameful waste of candy." Dean said, looking back down to the ash smeared across the floor. "Wait, what did you mean angel? Is Cas back?" Dean asked and quickly looked around. Nobody.

"You didn't feel that? I _saw_ it, it was so powerful." Sam said.

Dean just narrowed his eyes.

"Just tell me what hell you're talking about."

"He gave you energy. I have no idea how but he managed to give you the power to kill her. It was extremely potent." Sam explained.

Dean couldn't speak for a moment. He was going through the events in his mind. It wasn't all him, and that was weird to think. Cas had saved his ass from miles away, wherever he was. Dean became even more grateful for the scruffy angel, and being completely honest with himself he missed the man. Sam had a devious smile on his face.

"What?" Dean asked him.

His smile grew a little more.

"Oh, nothing. You just display your feelings like an open book."

"No I don't." He protested and looked away slightly to avoid his gaze. His cheeks were burning from the thoughts he'd just had to provoke that. "Let's get these kids outta here."

Sam shrugged his shoulders and strode out the door nonchalantly. Dean retrieved his gun from under the marshmallow couch where it had slid, and opened the colorful door that held the girl, Gretel, behind it. She was dressed in a pink dress, but the pink seemed to be long gone from wear and tear. He bent over to appear less intimidating and called for her to come over.

"Come with me. I'm gonna get you out of here." Dean said.

The girl hesitated and then shook her head, holding her knees to her chest.

"Just come. I'll take you home."

He held out a hand and waved for her to come with him, and she eventually slid off the bed to take his hand. The girl shakily held on to him as he followed Sam's path out the front door and made his way to the barn. He couldn't help but break off a small portion of a peppermint stick as he left the house. The grass was already returning to a more natural color and some spots were even dying. A breeze caught the girls skirt as she tagged along behind Dean, who was much larger than her frail frame. Dean squeezed through the small opening once again to retrieve the young boy. Just to make sure, he took Gretel into the barn with him. He bent over near the bars in the stall and peered through the opening.

"I'm getting you out."

He tugged at the wood top, but it wouldn't budge so he smacked the overhanding edge until it cracked and a large piece broke free. Dean grabbed the splintered edges and pulled more off until the stall was open enough to crawl through.

"Ok, now climb through the top." Dean told the blonde boy.

Hanzel tried to jump up and grab the top to pull himself through but he hardly got inches off the ground before dropping back down. He grunted, but it made no difference.

"Or maybe I should just leave him here for his own good, before the kids at school tear him apart." Dean muttered to himself and jumped on top of the cage and dropped through the hole. He considered lifting him up through the hole but he thought better of it. Instead he did what he liked to do best. Dean braced himself and struck out hard against the wooden wall and it groaned. The sides started to separate from the wall. He kicked again and the wall nearly fell from its seams. He gave it a last push and the thick wood fell with a loud bang. He walked through and Hanzel followed, scrambling out weakly. The long time spent in the cramped space deteriorated his muscles and anything beyond crawling was difficult for him.

"C'mon." Dean said, as he nearly pulled the boy to his feet and helped him to the gap.

Sam waited outside on the hill while Dean got the kids. He didn't particularly care about them so he had no desire to help, although the alone time gave him an opportunity to think about Castiel. He had suddenly disappeared just like many times before, but this time Lucifer couldn't hear him on the angel radio. There was the possibility he didn't want to be found but the more likely possibility was that the other angels had finally caught up to him. The barn door creaked and slowly opened. He saw the door shift followed by Dean, grunting to push the rusted door along the track. When he finally had enough room he pulled a blonde boy through the opening. _That_ would explain the need to move the door. The kid never would have fit through the crack between the doors. Dean walked over holding both their hands. One was a girl with a pink dress that looked like it could use a wash or two, the other a small, pudgy blonde boy who looked to be the same age. Dean bent his head down and whispered to the girl.

"Go run to Sam."

She gave him wide eyes. The man was unfamiliar to her.

"Really?" She asked.

"Go on. Run to uncle Sam." Dean said, chuckling at his own joke.

She obliged and ran until she reached Sam, then she stared at him with her childish eyes like she expected something.

Sam was unsure what to do so he just inspected her for a moment and decided he didn't want her awkwardly hanging around.

"Shoo." He said, waving his hands like she was a pest, sounding hesitant.

Dean laughed, and mentally congratulated himself on making Satan uncomfortable.

Dean reached the top of the hill and passed Sam without a glance. He grabbed the small girl's hand and persevered one step at a time, dragging the rather unhelpful children along. Two miles later Dean reached the road and found his car in the same mint condition he left it. He walked around inspecting it and deemed it to be acceptable. Dean pulled open the backseat doors.

"Get in. You can tell me where you live."

They hopped into the backseat and settled in without a word. Dean pointedly looked to Sam who had followed.

"You too." Dean told him.

He climbed in the passenger's seat.

"Where do you live?" Dean asked the kids.

The girl was the one that responded.

"We live down this road." She said.

"Ok. Can I have you point it out when we get there?" Dean asked in a soft voice, trying to be kind to the girl. She nodded with full cooperation.

The road kept going for at least five miles before the girl told him to slow down at their house. It was a small farmhouse that Dean could hardly see through the trees that lined their driveway.

"Alright, you can get out here. We never existed. Don't say anything about us." Dean told the girl. She nodded again and opened the door to get out. The boy followed her down the dusty gravel road. Dean turned to go back the way they came and took off until he realized he had no idea where he wanted to go. _He had nowhere to go_. It felt odd not having somewhere to be or even having an idea of where to go. That is until Dean decided to blow off a little steam.

The strip club wasn't the cleanest, but it certainly wasn't the trashiest club that Dean had walked into. Sam was back at the motel room because there was no way he was going to let Red Horns tag along and completely ruin his mood. First thing he did was order a nice beer and was a little insulted when the waitress didn't even bother to card him.

"Its college finals week." Dean smiled and lied to try to make himself appear younger.

The waitress didn't seem too interested in him or his fake life. She walked away and Dean watched the sashay of her hips appreciatively as she did. The night wore on just like any other Dean spent in a gentlemen's club but he felt a little more empty inside. He attempted to fill the void with fermented barley and alcohol but the more he drank, the more buzzed he became and that was it. The flashing lights got fuzzy after a while. He felt a pang, or twinge every so often and it reminded him of Cas. He tried to ignore it with the bare skin of the girl in front of him, but that didn't work like it would for anything else troubling him. Eventually Dean stumbled his way out of the strip club and in his alcoholic haze he couldn't figure out which way the motel was. He didn't want to leave his baby on the curb alone, and there was no way he was capable of driving so his drunken logic led to him sleeping in the car.

Dean awoke to a massive pounding headache that was ever familiar to him, and an entirely sore and cramped sensation. He tried to focus his eyes on the blurry slip of paper that was sitting on his windshield, but he couldn't figure out which legal words would be inked onto it. Dean remembered nothing from the night before. He stepped out of the car and snatched the paper off the glass. Dean groaned. Apparently the club didn't like cars parked outside their curb after hours.

Sam waited for Dean to come back. The beds they paid for had been entirely useless because Dean spent his night passed out only god knew where, and Lucifer didn't need sleep. The rumbling from outside indicated to him that not only was Dean back but he was angry. The engine revving was a big red flag. The door flew open and Lucifer saw the slip of paper before he threw it down on the table.

"Thirty bucks!" Dean yelled.

Sam simply glanced at the black and white and gave Dean a confused look.

"Do you hear yourself? It's only thirty. You paid more for hookers last night." Sam said.

"But I wasn't bothering anyone. I was just lying in my car." Dean said, throwing his arms above his head.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

"That isn't what you really want to talk about, is it?" Sam asked.

"Yes! I mean no. I don't want to talk about a ticket."

Sam simply stared at him.

"Aaaannnd…?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged.

"And what? Do you want to talk about the fact that Cas is missing and I have no idea where he could have gone. He wouldn't just up and _leave_. I mean, do you even know what happened to him?" Dean was rapidly spouting his feelings.

Sam shook his head.

"No I haven't heard from him, but he probably took a hiatus and really there's nothing to worry about."

Dean was too far into hysterics to really notice that Lucifer wasn't being his usual snarky self.

"That isn't like him. He always comes back. This time is different. I know he's an angel but he's still mortal and I think something might have him." Dean confessed, trying to mask his emotions with a deep masculine voice.

"You still seem tired. Just rest on the bed for a while and maybe you'll feel better." Sam suggested. The whole situation was weird, not that Dean noticed.

"I…I guess I could. The whole waking up before noon thing _has_ been tiring."

Dean climbed onto the fluffy bed and barely made it between the covers before he passed out cold.

One Month Later

A rap at the door made Dean weary. He had just heard Sam leave and didn't think he would be back for anything, plus he had his own motel key. The single bed room was a standard thing ever since Cas had left. The secretary gave Dean and Sam a weird look when they asked for a single. After the initial shock she smiled and acted way too peppy toward them. It was typical and Dean was used to the presumptions.

Dean cracked the blinds so he could peer at the individual outside the door. He could barely see the tan trench coat, but when he caught sight of the light cloth he reached his hand over and flung the lock out of its spot. He ripped the door open and didn't give him an opportunity to make a sound before enveloping the angel in a massive hug. Castiel closed his eyes and enjoyed the contact before feeling guilty and made moves of protest. He hardly pushed against Dean but he eventually released Cas from his vice grip on him. Castiel stubble had grown to extra-long lengths, a month's worth to be exact. His face was dirty and his clothes weren't the best smelling, but Dean didn't care. Why would he when he had his angel back?

"It's so good to see you." Dean burst out with a smile, until he saw Cas's expression. "Cas, what's wrong?" He asked, worry riddling his expression. For a moment he despaired that Cas wasn't himself and may be an imposter. "Cas, tell me." Dean demanded.

Castiel hung his head. He didn't want to tell Dean.

"I-I've been going against orders and I, uh, my grace was inhibited."

Cas swallowed hard, waiting for Dean's reaction.

"You mean to tell me you're not an angel anymore?" Dean asked.

Cas had a hard time looking Dean straight in the eyes.

"Yes." He whispered.

"So essentially you're a baby in a trench coat." Dean said, though he wasn't harsh about it.

Cas just stared at him with big eyes, unable to respond.

"I think you hurt his feelings."

Dean jumped and broke eye contact to search the room. Sam.

"You stay out of this." Dean said.

He grabbed the door handle and opened the door, pushing Cas out before him. He swiftly shut the door behind himself.

"How did you get back Cas? If, you know, you can't zap anywhere how did you find me?" He asked.

"That's something else I need to tell you. We…we seem to have a bond. I was transported to the arctic, but I knew how to get back because I…I could feel it, I could feel _you_." Cas had a hard time explaining it. "I don't exactly know but I think I imprinted on you when you called out to me. I must have pushed back too hard and now we're linked."

Dean blinked slowly and didn't speak.

"I may also have one last thing." Cas said.

"Cas, why are angels after us?" Dean demanded as he sped down the road.

"Are you angry? Why are you angry?" Cas asked, his brows knit.

"No I'm, I'm-please, can we just stay on target?" Dean snapped.

"They want to use you as vessels for the apocalypse." Cas stated.

"So if I do this crossroads thing you told me about, then I can get Lucifer out and prevent the apocalypse?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded.

"That would be the best way to stop it."

Dean gazed over at Cas.

"Get ready because we're gonna run this town tonight." He said, and sped up causing a protesting whine from the engine.

Dean dug up a tin from under the gravel. Surrounded by yarrow flowers, Dean looked like a scene from a movie. The lateness of the hour made it easy to stand in the road without oncoming traffic. Lloyd's bar wasn't too busy either. He bent down and brushed the dirt from the metal and opened the case. An old timey picture from a wanted poster sat with a bone, and a bottle of dirt. He could see why the previous owner had been a demon deal making type. Dean was surprised Lucifer hadn't tracked them down yet. The only way Lucifer could really find Dean was through Cas and his angel radio wasn't working, although Dean didn't know that. Dean pulled out a new picture of him from his pocket. The lengths he went to just to get a picture. The endeavor comprised of a single sale purchase for a disposable camera, and an hour wait at the store for the film to be developed. Nine dollars later Dean had his up to date picture.

Dean removed the old picture and left it on the gravel. He replaced the photo with his and closed the tin, carefully placing it back into the void in the ground. He took the shovel and poured some gravel over it from his pile, and patted it down. Dean leaned on the shovel and, frightened, watched Cas and waited for the demon. A scratch sounded behind him and Dean whipped around.

"Helloooo, darling." He purred.

His British accent stuck out. It didn't occur to him demons could have culture. The dark man watched him with a smirk that reminded Dean so much of Lucifer.

"So, uh…hi." Dean choked out, not really knowing how to bring up the subject of his demise.

"I know I cause butterflies, but there's no need for performance anxiety." He gave Dean a seductive smile. "I'm Crowley, King of Crossroads Demons."

Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Another king of the underworld I see. Well, I need a favor."

"My favors aren't free." Crowley whispered.

"I know. I need you to send me to Hell." Dean blurted.

Crowley waited for a second; then his eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"You don't want anything in return?" He asked.

Dean hadn't thought about that. His reward would be to have his brother free of Lucifer.

"I want him to get his grace back." Dean pointed to Cas.

Crowley stared at Cas as if contemplating something difficult.

"Deal." He said.

Dean nodded and waited, but nothing happened.

"Do we shake on it or something? Why am I not dead yet?"

Crowley chuckled.

"No."

His seductive smile grew wide.

"What then?"

Crowley looked much too pleased with himself.

"A kiss."

Dean's eyes widened as Crowley inched closer and Dean was forced to calm himself as he approached.

"You can't be serious. There's must be some other way." Dean floundered for another possibility.

"Nope. I'm dead serious. Ah, pun intended."

Crowley suddenly grabbed Dean and pulled him close. The shovel fell from Dean's grasp and Crowley placed one hand behind his head as he closed in. His face was a breath away and Dean decided to endure it, initiating the kiss the rest of the way. It was slow, and extremely awkward. Dean felt every second, knowing Cas was watching. His face and throat burned from humiliation, then abruptly everything was gone. _Gone_.

GASP. Sam coughed and wheezed on the bed he found himself on. He looked at his hands and clenched them. He didn't breathe and then clenched them again. He laughed a booming, throaty laugh and ripped the covers off the bed and hopped around with joy. After about a minute Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He stared out the window at the empty parking lot as feathers floated down from where his antics had thrown them. _Dean_. He thought. The thought wouldn't leave Sam's head. _No_. He couldn't believe. He refused to believe. _NO_. This was all because Lucifer wanted out, Sam tried to convince himself. He knew it wasn't true. He was lying to himself. Lucifer would never have let him go, especially not with the bigger plan set perfectly in motion. Sam fell back onto the bed and quickly a tear escaped his eye followed by another; and another.

**And now you wait**


End file.
